The Phantom of the Night
by Tigris Euphrates
Summary: Christine P. Shelton of Salt Lake City, Utah accidently runs across the gargoyle she names Phantom, resulting her becoming involved in a massive feud of warring halves of the Children of Oberon. Illustrated. (homepage: http://www.miniclan.org/tigris/saga.
1. Transformation

  
A Gargoyle Tale of Epic Proportions   
An Alternate Gargoyles Universe (AGU) Novel 

Edited by:   
Pegasus   
and   
MaryK 
Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
Last revision: February 29, 2000 
Revised by:   
Cinnamon   
and   
Dasha Ariel 

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

  
  


* * *

The year is 1996. 

  
  


The first time such a blood red moon shown over the world, as the dark fairies danced about, was three hundred years before the day She was born. Her birth marked the start of the end of the revolution, that would either tear the world apart or knit it together again afterwards. Even then, the light was withdrawing from the world, and destruction lay perilously close. Mankind could feel it's approach, but when the second moon arose in 1978, no one saw it's meaning except The One. That was when his search began. 

The first time he awoke from stone in the Western Hemisphere, was in May of 1996. He'd followed prophesy and fairy paths, and now he'd reached his final destination. The new moon had peered into the darkening night sky as the sun was sinking below the Oquirrh mountains to the west. Although dusk was only an hour away, the light of day hung brightly in the air. The streets emptied throughout Salt Lake City, as people there were determined to get home the evening. 

Two stone figures, strapped down inside the massive museum truck to prevent damaging them, were being hauled from the airport up a canyon on the east side where the Rocky Mountains cut through Utah along the Wasatch front. This particular canyon, one of many in the sides of the Wasatch, had steep rock sides and rocky clefts all along it, remnants of an ancient sea bed. 

It was all owned by the museum manager. 

  
  


The Roland Art Museum was owned and named by Mr. Gerald Theodore Roland, a scrawny man of small stature who always dressed impeccably in a tuxedo and fine silk bow tie. G. T. Roland, as he was known, was one of the richest and most eccentric men in the state and fancied himself to be an art collector, and had inherited most of his collection from his father. He was very young, only about twenty five, and was quite handsome, and was one of those people who seemed to have everything going for him. Now, as the truck pulled up to the Museum's receiving entrance, he stepped out from his office to meet the driver. 

"What do we have there, Steve?" he inquired. 

Keeping a guarded distance, he watched the grubby truck driver, Steve. The truck made a loud WHOOSHING sound as the air brakes engaged, and with a rumble, the engine shut down. Steve climbed out of the cab, and rubbed his back as though it hurt. Mr. G. T. Roland was very careful not to dirty his clothes by stepping into any of the puddles in the dirt and gravel road left by all the rain that had been falling off and on the last few days. 

"More of the same." Steve moaned. "Only THESE two came all the way from France. There's all kinds of papers for you to sign on these. The bills of lading are almost as thick as my auto insurance." 

"How do the figures look?" 

"They're in good shape. The folks that sent 'um were afraid they'd be destroyed by acid rain or something." 

"That was considerate of them, wasn't it?" Roland replied brightly, basking in the dream of his newest acquisition. "Won't Christy be impressed?" 

"I dunno. These stupid things are made of SOLID stone. They were a real pain to load at the airport." Steve added. "We couldn't use an ordinary pallet jack, and had to find somebody with a tow motor." 

Roland threw back the canvas tarp covering the truck's cargo. The massive stone carvings of grotesque, winged creatures; although impressive, were not what Roland believed he had ordered. He made no attempt to hide his disappointment - or his contempt. 

"How bland..." He sneered dryly. 

"I dunno," the driver shrugged, "they look kinda cool to me." 

"These aren't renaissance figures like Christine enjoys," Roland spurted angrily. "These are just odd water spigots from an altogether different century." he huffed, "Don't even bother placing them on the main floor. Store them in the basement until I can sell them." 

He huffed and stormed away. Steve gave a sigh of relief at his departure. "Rich men." he muttered. "Insensitive jerks." 

He rubbed his back again as he went to find a tow motor to unload them. Meanwhile, the sun was setting. 

As the hour passed, Roland thumbed through a catalog. Disappointed with his London men for their lack of judgement in the figures they had sent, he set the catalog aside and began composing a letter of complaint about it. 

CRRRAAASSSH!!! 

The sound of massive breakage downstairs shattered his concentration and Roland bolted from his desk and rushed out onto the studio floor. A glass case with Her third century Mayan amulet, lay smashed on the floor, emitting a strange light. A light in one corner of the room, darkening with the falling light of day outside the showroom windows, flashed in the darkness. 

With no weapon at hand, Roland backed away, glancing around frantically for some assistance. Once he had some distance between himself and whatever lurked in the shadows, he shouted for his workmen as he darted back into his office and fumbled for the gun he kept in his desk. Clutching it in shaking hands, he returned to the studio to confront the intruder only to have it seized from his grasp by a huge shadow looming out of the surrounding gloom of dusk. He barely caught a glimpse of his pistol being crushed in massive claws before a blow from the same huge shadow sent his senses reeling and left him blacked out and unconscious on the floor. 

  
  


It was a beautiful sunset, setting right below the rim of the Great Salt Lake and Antelope Island. By the time Steve had finished unloading the truck, closed up the trailer, filled out his logbook, and left the museum grounds, he was disappointed to have missed all but the last few minutes of the sunset. Now the tall trees around him were dark and ominous as he opened his sack dinner and began munching idly on a sandwich. Hearing the loud crash from inside the museum followed by the tinkling of broken glass, Steve snapped his head around. The building lay oddly dark in the encroaching evening shadow. The sound of groaning metal drew his gaze toward his truck - and two pairs of brilliantly burning devils' eyes. He did not see much else before a sudden thud threw him flat on the ground where he could feel his truck on top of him, pinning his legs. 

  
  


Early the next morning, around an hour before the sun would rise, Christine Shelton made her way up the canyon. She was always tempted to drop off at her boyfriend's museum on other days when she drove past to see how he was getting along. However, today it was far too early in the morning to go see him. 

Christine did not mind the early hour. In fact she preferred it. She was determined to get some climbing in before classes today. There would be plenty of time to get back to lectures, classes, exams, performances, projects, activities, dances, meetings, parties, and a hundred other useless tasks by the time she was done. A pre-dawn solo climb in her beloved mountains gave her the chance she longed for to escape having to pretend she was interested in being sociable. 

She stripped off her shirt and pants, leaving only the navy blue polyurethane body suit underneath. Her little brother Matthew, for some reasons, had bought it for her for Christmas - with some helpful assistance from her overzealous father. It wasn't like she was trying to make a good first impression on anyone, or worry about anyone seeing her. The suit probably did her flat figure no justice, she thought, and was several sizes too big for her, but she didn't care as long as it was comfortable and wouldn't tear on the rock. 

From a slight crack running down one side of the cliff face, she pulled her rope out from where she had hidden it from the effects of the rain. She slung her harness from her shoulder, pulled it around her legs, and tied the rope. Letting go of all her frustrations and gathering all her enthusiasm she jammed her foot into the crack at the foot of the cliff. 

She pushed down on her first hold. 

Christine's father always complained about her mountain climbing, probably afraid it was dangerous. She felt unstoppable up there, on the on the heights where she belonged! On the ground the entire idea seemed insane, but never while she was in the middle of a climb. 

The cliff was a solid patch of exposed grey/purplish sedimentary rock about twenty or thirty meters across, and a hundred meters high, one of many that stuck out of the sides of the Twin Peaks mountains. An easy path circled around both sides through some small trees and light brush, leading to where the rope was secured by a bolt in the rock, at the top. Most of the climb was flat and vertical. A few small cracks ran down the lower portion of it, up to a small strip of green limestone she called the Blank Stripe. There were no more places to grab hold there. She'd never been any higher up the cliff than that Blank Stripe, that's what kept her coming back here. It was her challenge - to find away to get past the Black Stripe. 

In her mind, she was free. She wanted to be up there, away from gravity, away from people and to soar in the clouds. That was the thrill of it! The feel of air running through her hair and across her face and arms was always a warm -- almost passionate -- caress. If only she could fly, suspended in the air, above everything! She so envied birds the way they could stretch out their wings and ride on the wind... 

She knew how much weight and just where to put it. Leaning out away from the rock face with legs splayed, and reaching her way upward, the rope was all she had to keep her from falling to a sudden death. 

The rays of the early morning sun were beginning to faintly glimmer up behind the Wasatch mountains, just as Christine neared the Blank Stripe. However, this time something was different. There were small marks in the Black Stripe. They were easily within reach of her hands -- small clusters of four finger-sized holes, staggered on either side as if placed there intentionally for easy climbing access. 

Christine's initial momentary surprise immediately changed to outright indignation. Who on earth would have the gall...? Inwardly seething with annoyance, she started up the wall. Whoever had so conveniently drilled those perfectly spaced holes had deprived her of the challenging climb she had so eagerly anticipated when she first set out this morning. 

"Like climbing a ladder." she complained disgustedly as she completed the easy ascent. "This was too easy." 

Christine only barely saw the dark shape of the huge fist before it hit her with enough force to throw her back over the cliff. For a few terrifying seconds she flailed wildly in midair until her rope snapped taut, stopping her fall. It could not stop her from slamming into the cliff face. She felt the hot, stickiness on her face and touched blood. 

For Christine, being scared usually led directly to getting angry. Furious, she pulled herself back to the top of the cliff. 'No one gets away with trying to kill me!' she thought. In the pre-sunrise light of the early morning, they glared at her, only a few meters away, hands on hips. 

"They" were two creatures with humanoid shape dressed in loincloths, one with a sapphire blue and grey leathery flesh, the other the color of chocolate. Each had eyes that glowed white hot like... radioactive fuel. Their resemblance to humans was only in that they stood upright and had two arms and two legs. Beyond that they were clearly.... something else. Attached to their shoulders and held impressively behind them were huge, leathery, batlike wings. These were undoubtedly powered by the massive pectoral muscles forming their broad chests. They had long, pointed, elfin ears; long, muscular tails; and showed sharp fangs for teeth. Their hands were more like claws with four fingers tipped with razor sharp talons, and additional talons on their heels and knee and elbow joints. Christine stared at them, astonished; but her rage at their unprovoked attack kept her from being intimidated by them. 

"What in God's name are you?" she demanded fiercely, throwing down her climbing harness, her expression accusing and angry. 

The two glanced at each other, as though asking each other permission to speak. "We are the owners of this mountain." 

"I don't see your name on it." Christine replied stubbornly. "Who are you? What are you?" 

"We are the ones who are going to throw you back off that cliff again, HUMAN." The brown one snarled, placing a heavy sneer on the word HUMAN. 

"Like I'm going to let you!" she taunted defiantly. Both creatures rushed forward. Christine made a quick effort to dodge them, but she wasn't expecting what came. 

Their grips were like iron. She was lifted off the ground and slung off the cliff like a rag doll. 

Fortunately her rope, which had become twisted around the bolt at the top of the cliff, saved her again. After her second bone-jarring stop, she found her holds once again and leaned forward against the cliff face to catch her breath. High above there was a sound like a knife slicing through wire and her rope suddenly came loose and tumbled to the ground beneath her. 

She looked up to see the creatures disappear beyond the brink of the cliff, apparently satisfied that she was now beaten and would not trouble them further. Christine was not one to give up - even when most others would. Carefully slipping a small shard of limestone shale into her sleeve, she footed her climbing range for the third time, this time without the safety net of her rope. The monsters were walking away as she came up over the lip of the cliff. 

"My turn now, boys?" Christine announced, standing atop the cliff again. The creatures turned, surprised at her tenacity. 

"Cursed human!" the blue/grey one bellowed. 

"Quick! Kill her. The sun is soon to rise." the chocolate colored one added in a sidelong voice. 

"I'm sorry." Christine mocked. "I didn't quite catch your SPECIES." 

They were rushing forward again. 

"We are Gargoyles." the chocolate colored one said. 

"We will be owned by no human." blue/grey added. 

Christine charged forward on the tips of her toes, meeting them headlong. They did not slow, and the chocolate colored one raised a massive fist. Christine quickly ducked under it, and stabbed him from behind with her shard of shale. She then yanked it free, doing even more damage on the way out. 

The... gargoyle, as he called himself, cried out in agony, spun around, and slashed at her with his claws. Dodging, Christine backed towards the edge of the cliff, preparing to face them again. Both gargoyles charged her once more. She had to act quickly to avoid being thrown off the cliff a third time. 

Christine did the fastest thing she knew how. She ducked down and slipped underneath their hands. Their momentum carried them over the brink of the cliff, but they didn't seem to care. Part way down the fall their wings unfolded, bringing them up in a controlled glide to the wall of the cliff. There they slammed their hands into the solid stone like jack hammers. With the sound of power drivers, they clawed their way up the cliff, leaving small pockets of crumbled stone behind them in the wall. 

"So you're the creeps who messed up my climb." she fumed. How strong were these things?!!! If they could rip apart stone with their talons...? 

There was no time to think about it as they came over the ledge and were on her again. One of them slashed at her. She felt nothing, but knew it had connected somewhere, her blood was on his talons. The next instant she saw the world go upside down as the other one seized her by an arm and a leg, swung her over his head, and threw her against the ground opposite the cliff. She hit the ground face first with a bone breaking thud. Only by managing to land in a roll was she able to avoid breaking something vital. Nevertheless, she felt the wind knocked out of her and lay gasping on impact. Her surging adrenaline was the only thing that kept her from blacking out. 

Aware that her attacker was advancing on her again, she desperately searched her immediate surroundings for something to use for a better weapon. Aside from sticks and twigs no bigger than her finger and a variety of sandstone boulders too big to dislodge, there was little within reach. One boulder, roughly the size of a watermelon, lay near the feet of the blue/grey gargoyle. Then, as she struggled to get up, she felt her belt under her. Hanging on it was her climber's chalk bag - still mostly full. Quickly she slipped a hand into it and grabbed a fistful of powdery chalk. As the gargoyle sprang at her, she twisted aside before his claws could connect and flung the handful of chalk into his face. Her action left him momentarily blinded and choking on the dusty stuff - and gave her the few extra seconds she needed to get to that one loose boulder. With strength she never knew she had, she hefted the rock overhead and brought it down hard and solid on the gargoyle's skull, splitting the rock apart. 

He grunted and collapsed. 

Christine wanted to collapse as well, but suddenly realized it was not yet over. In the frenzy with the blue/grey she had forgotten his chocolate-colored companion. That one now appeared out of the last shadows before dawn and picked her up by her shoulders. Oddly, he seemed impressed at her endurance. 

"You're quite a feisty one, Human," he jeered. 

His claws pinching the bones in her shoulders caused her to cry out in pain. Not sure how much longer she could hold on, Christine still would not readily yield. 

"Do you always attack people smaller than you are for no reason?" she demanded angrily. "You're prob'ly not used to one who are willing to fight back!" 

The gargoyle dropped her, and she rolled onto the ground. 

She stood up, fists in front of her. She slung her torso around in a heavy kick to his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall. 

This was going to be ugly, Christine she thought. The gargoyle gave a low growl from deep in his throat and brought up his claws, as though he were going to slash at her again. Christine had anticipated that move, and was waiting for it. However, the creature suddenly twisted his torso instead and whipped his tail across her legs. 

"Two can play that game." Christine mocked, yet undaunted. With an amazing burst of agility, she ducked around one side, rolled on the ground, and kicked her feet into the back of the gargoyle's knees. Momentarily off balance, he waved his hands in the air for a moment like he was falling backwards. 

Then the sun rose. 

Suddenly, a crushing weight forced Christine to the ground, where she lay exhausted, battered, and bleeding -- beneath a stone statue! It took several minutes before her pounding heart and ragged breathing began calming to something close to normal. All through the intense struggle to stay alive she had hardly felt any pain. Now there was no part of her that did not feel it. She was covered with bruises and scrapes, some in places she usually did not think of as being so sensitive. Several minor slashes through her blue body suit were bleeding superficially, but nothing seemed broken besides skin. Still, it was several minutes more before she finally tried to move. 

Movement increased the pain and she groaned as she struggled to worm her way out from under the stone gargoyle. Stone? How?! She could not have simply imagined fighting the two massive creatures. Her painfully battered body was proof of that. They were real enough all right. Now too, she realized just how close to the edge of the cliff she had fallen. Another couple of feet and... Best not to think of that. 

Using her feet and the last of her adrenaline reserve, she managed to shove hard enough to get it off her. Once moving, the statue rolled over once and its own weight carried it off the edge to smash to rubble on the rocks below. 

Christine crawled to the edge to look over at what she had just done. The other one -- the blue/grey one she had clobbered with the boulder, still lay where he had fallen. Now, he too was cold, grey stone, but still whole. She didn't think she had killed him -- only stunned him. But this one -- shattered to pieces far below... Was he... dead? 

  
  


When the nurses at the University Infirmary asked just how she had come to have been beaten up so badly, she explained she had taken a fall climbing... not far at all from the truth. Besides, they knew her very well at the infirmary, they wouldn't tell anyone. Christine had come in many times before, after encounters with various unpredictable coeds. (Sometimes she wondered if she attracted them.) Christine felt stunned, on a variety of levels. She had never been so stunned in her life! (She thought perhaps the successive blows to her head might have played some small part in that.) 

She was also troubled. The creatures had turned to stone as the dawn had broken. For the time she had spent in the mountains before coming home, they had stayed like that. However, when the sun went down in the evening, might they reawaken? Christine was not anxious to return now. If that one she had smashed was actually dead... 

She didn't want to think about it. Yet, she felt drawn by a strange compulsion to return to the cliff top that evening. Christine wasn't stupid, though. She brought a chain up with her; the one they hauled Mandy's car with. It was nearing eight O'clock, and the sun would be going down soon. It was already beginning to disappear beyond the small Oquirrh Mountains to the west. 

Completely oblivious to why she was doing it, other than the odd feeling in her mind that she needed to, Christine chained the other stone-turned creature's wrists and ankles together where it had collapsed after she had hit it over the head that morning, and bolted the chains to the cliff top where her climbing rope had been. 

She chastised herself for how stupid and nonsensical it all was. It made no sense that a statue would come to life. Yet, it hadn't been a statue this morning, now was it? Her blackened eye lay testament to that fact. Still, Christine wondered if she had only been seeing things. She had borrowed Mandy's camera, just in case. Then she waited and watched as the sun finally set. 

The blue/grey colored gargoyle's eyes burst open, blazing with white light. 

It was working! She had been right! Christine thought, feeling elated. Somewhere, a voice in her mind cautioned her that these creatures had tried to kill her and very nearly succeeded. Yet, the sheer thrill of her discovery was too much to pass by. She began to shoot pictures. 

The stone cracked down it's body. It shattered, flying in all directions, and there he was, the blue and grey colored gargoyle. Christine kept shooting. 

The gargoyle, a bit disoriented, yanked up on the chains. He pulled again and again, trying to break them. For some reason he could not break them. He had been so strong before! Couldn't he break a tow chain? He kept trying. 

Christine looked at his feet, long and slender with a sharp ankle, and thick clawed toes. His legs were splayed wide, and a long muscular tail ran from his back. He had wings, batlike, the back of which was covered in a black ebony velvet fuzz. At the apex of each wing were small fingers. His elbows were barbed, and he had four-taloned claws. His face was flat with horns protruding from his brow. Seeing the human female staring at him, he stopped trying to pull the chains apart, and faced her, eyes blazing with malice. 

Christine had stopped taking pictures and just stood staring at him in silence. It was almost as if she could, in her mind, hear her mother playing her violin again... encouraging her... 

...Why was it she felt like she knew him...? 

She suddenly remembered the companion gargoyle, and looked down the cliff. The shattered gargoyle remained a shattered stone statue. If he hadn't come to life, that must mean... 

Christine felt a tear roll down her cheek. 

BLAST! Now, of all times, she was getting emotional again? Why should she? The devil tried to murder her! She pulled her dark blue cotton jacket around her T-shirt and jeans, shivering. Damn estrogen... 

The gargoyle just watched her. She stood, looking over the cliff morosely. What strange behavior was this for the human? What was she looking at? 

He looked. 

He saw the tears on her face, and the dusty shards remaining of his brother. 

"I'm sorry." she said softly. The anger faded from his eyes, and Christine saw they were almost normal, calm as the sea after a storm and twice as deep. 

He was taken aback by the human's compassion. "Why are you sorry for him, human? He tried to kill you, and you hold me prisoner. How can you be sorry?" 

Christine did not reply. She didn't know why. She just couldn't bring herself to be angry any longer. Besides, she was tired of being angry. Too often she had been silently angry at friends and people who had not even known she was angry, holding it inside. She did not want to be angry now. 

"Why do you not leave us alone?" the gargoyle continued, demanding. 

Christine sighed, trying to pull herself back together, rubbing her shirt collar over her eyes. "If you'll leave me alone, I will." she said, trying to pull up her usual psychological defensive barrier in front of her. 

"Then let me go." he replied, tempting. 

Christine did, unlocking the chains and the bolt. He had not been expecting her to give up that easily. When he was free and rubbing his wrists, he only stood, watching her, unmoving. 

Christine sat down on the ground, looking at the west where the sun's final rays were disappearing. "Aren't you angry?" 

The gargoyle did not reply. 

"This may be a little beyond the point, but what are gargoyles?" she inquired. "I've never heard of anything like you before." 

"We are protectors." 

"What do you protect?" 

The gargoyle shifted nervously, as if he itched to be away from her, but something seemed to be keeping him where he stood. 

"What is it?" Christine inquired. 

"Why do you concern yourself with him?" 

"Because he's dead." 

"Many are dead." 

"I... but I killed him." Christine stuttered, not facing him. "I didn't know you were going to do... that. Was he your friend?" 

The gargoyle looked down at the remains once more. His gaze fell. "He was." 

"Who was he?" 

"He was my rookery brother." 

"Your brother?" 

"Yes. One of many rookery brothers and sisters taken from our home by you accursed humans." 

"Where are they?" 

The gargoyle sighed, as though he had been wondering the same thing. 

"Me and my rookery brother were separated from the others when the airplane flew us here." 

"Where are you from?" 

"That is none of your concern." he barked angrily. 

"Sorry." Christine apologized again. She simply did not have the energy to stand up anyone to else today. Sure, if he came at her again she was going to do something about it, but he was just watching her, not making any moves. "What's your name?" she inquired. 

The gargoyle stuttered for something to say. "We... have no names. We are gargoyles." 

Christine looked up at the hulking figure standing over her. "What have you been doing?" 

"I can still kill you, if you cannot be quiet." he growled. 

With a sudden burst of creative inspiration and recollection, Christine replied "I thought you said you were a protector." 

He sighed. "I was... once." 

"Before they brought you here, I take it." Christine guessed. 

"Yes." 

"Do you miss them? Your brothers and sisters, I mean." 

"Yes." He said quickly, as thought the memory were somehow bitter. "There was one female of whom I was fond, and she of me." 

"What happened to her?" 

"A human boy killed with a gun her for standing in his way." he replied. He looked away, into the falling night, hurt. "She could not heal before she died." 

Christine looked into his face. In shadow still, his eyes were large, and watery. "It must be a painful memory." she observed. 

"Yes." 

"When my mother died, I thought I was going to die too. I missed her so much. It made me ill for weeks before I finally came out of it." Christine muttered, rambling now. 

"How did she die?" the creature asked. 

"She was hit by a drunken driver while she crossed a canyon near here. His brakes failed." she answered. "I wasn't with her to protect her." 

"Would you have protected her if you were there?" 

"I couldn't have been there." Christine answered morosely, looking away. "I was too little and just a frightened child. I was too weak, too small, too stupid to think about it. It's not like I had your wings or your strength. I would have flown in and carried her away." she answered, dreamily. 

This didn't make any sense to him. "It was not like you could have known the day she would be killed." 

"Maybe if I'd been with her, I'd have been able to stop it from happening." 

"Not many things can stop a speeding car without being destroyed by it." he replied, analytically. 

"I don't know!" Christine cried out, desperately. "Would it have helped if I had died in her place?" 

The gargoyle turned away. "I once thought it might, but what would it accomplish? It's nothing more than one death in place of another." 

Christine looked up at him again. 

"I once thought as you do, human. I had to stop and realize that things were the way they were, and to stop fretting over it." he answered. 

Christine rebuttled violently, standing up to face him. "Then why are you going around attacking people climbing cliffs?" 

He did not turn around. "We were too angry to think. We knew humans were at fault, so we began fighting them. I... I don't see any point in it anymore." 

Christine relaxed. "It seems we have something in come on then. We both seem unable to let go of the past." 

"We are also both reluctant killers. As strange as it seems, you are right, human." 

"Christine." she corrected. "My name is Christine Shelton." 

She held out a hand to him, in peacemaking. The gargoyle turned, and looked between her and her outstretched hand suspiciously. 

"No more fighting each other, okay?" Christine proposed. 

"On that account only," the gargoyle said, and shook. "we are agreed... Christine." 

For a brief moment, with her hand in his, the gargoyle looked closely at her and noticed the extensive bruises. Indicating them, he seemed almost hesitant as he asked, "Did I... do that to you?" 

Christine nodded slowly. "Yes. You and your... rookery brother... both did." 

"Then... it is I who must say... 'I'm sorry.'" 

She would not have expected that from him, but was all the more glad now that she had decided to return after all. 

"Mind if I meet you back here this time tomorrow?" she inquired. "I'm gonna have to get some sleep tonight." 

The gargoyle measured her expression carefully. "I'll be here." 

  
  


As Christine drove home that night, she could see him following her by air in her rear view mirror. If he followed her back to her dorm, she was going to have a hard time explaining him to Mandy! When she finally arrived, he did not follow her any further, and just veered off in another direction. She waved. 

She and Mandy ran into each other at the photo lab, as Christine was developing the pictures. She'd absently turned the CD player on in one corner, and before had been the only one in the Dark Room. 

Luckily, she was in a good mood tonight. "Whew! You look like you took a fall climbing! Where have you been all night? On a date?" 

"She's baaaaaaaaack..." Christine muttered so that Mandy could hear. Mandy cautiously walked into the room, sure not to bump her shins into anything in the red half- darkness. She was still dressed in a suit and tie, and smelled heavily of perfume. Christine might have asked what she had been up to, but decided against it. 

She and Mandy had been roommates for an entire year, and so they knew each other's quirks rather well. Sure, they argued and fought at times, but usually it ended quickly. Most of the time their bantering was sheerly for the fun of it. Mandy had discovered early on that Christine had no skill at differentiating a serious remark from a joke, and Mandy had learned when to emphasize to Christine that a joke was, in fact, a joke. She was studying investigative medicine, and Christine loved to joke that Mandy might ask for volunteers at the operating table. At the same time, Christine had learned that most of Mandy's superficial playful attitudes held deeper feelings inside, some of which had come out on Christine's shoulder at late hours of the night. 

Mandy Dateair came from a french family that had emigrated only a few years ago. She loved to play the social roles, always irritating Christine to no end. Although she was no whiner, she could usually talk her dates into anything short of driving off a cliff. She loved Chocolates, Flowers, and the gentlemen callers who came with them. What came out on Christine's shoulder, though, was something from someone very different. Heartbroken, insecure, helpless, and unhappy. She never showed anyone how hard it had been for her to move away and adjust to such an alien land. She envied Christine, because she was used to it. 

"How did it go?..." 

"Fine. I was expecting a real battle, but he turned out to be quite a gentleman." she replied ironically. 

"So you had a good time?" she laughed, helping hang bathed film sheets on the line. 

Christine waved it off like it didn't matter, but Mandy simply would not let it rest. It was Mandy's opinion that Christine was too high-minded to fall in love with anyone, and always leaped at any slight possibility that she had. She looked over Christine's pictures, talking about their occupant like it was a real person. 

"So... who is he?" 

"Really, Mandy." 

"Chrissy, you wouldn't believe how easy it is to find that the most unusual kind of guy can be a total gentleman." 

"A water spigot?!" Christine forced a laugh. Mandy still hadn't backed down. 

"Or perhaps you're just playing hard to get..." 

"Mandy..." Christine growled in warning, the last syllable following on a far lower note. 

"Fine, forget it!" Mandy backed down, hands raised over her head in mock surrender. "Look, the guys in the corner dorm are getting some of the girls to bring their dates to a costume party they're throwing tomorrow night for graduation." 

"They shouldn't start planning parties until they know they've graduated." 

Mandy huffed. "They just wanted to know if you'd come. You can bring... your water spigot friend along too." she motioned to the photographs on the top of the pile, just pictures of the gargoyle's stone form. Mandy hadn't seen the bottom of the stack yet. 

Christine looked up at the wall for a moment, thinking. "A masquerade, eh?" 

"Pretty much, yeah." 

"Sure, we'll come." Christine affirmed. 

"Aha! So there IS someone!" Mandy guessed. Christine did not reply. 

Mandy and Christine were starting to develop pictures closer to the bottom of the pile. 

"You took my entire film case to shoot water spigots?" 

"Let's just say this particular drain spout interests me. How many water spigots do you see in a mountainside setting?" 

"You went on a date with a drain spout? Chrissy, baby, you need some serious..." her voice trailed off. Mandy had stopped, looked at the successive pictures of the stone breaking apart. She was gaping at it. 

"I need some serious mental help, do I? Huh. You don't know the half of it." Christine smiled to herself. 

Christine placed one of the final portraits of the gargoyle before her. Mandy stuttered unintelligibly and gawked at the successive photographs as Christine finished the developing. "Yes. He's the guy I was with tonight. We'd love to come the party. He's got this great costume, ya' know." Christine began to laugh. Mandy was agape. 

  
  


* * *

The gargoyle perched atop the melting snow on the peak of Mount Olympus. 

  
  


That is, the Mount Olympus in Utah. He had taken a southerly course after... escorting Christine to her place of residence. The Wasatch mountains, it appeared, were a part of a large chain that ran to the north and south. He was unfamiliar with this part of the world, but it appeared quite impressive, none the less. At his island home, the mountains were only a few thousand feet high at maximum, but these out defined the meaning of the word mountain. Their ten thousand foot heights were enough to give the mightiest gargoyle the shivers. They had nothing like this on his father's island! Not this grand... 

Most of the upper mountain's slopes were wooded to some degree, more thickly closer to the base of the mountain. Toward the bottom were hundreds of varieties of evergreens, the likes of which he had never before seen. Deciduous trees had grown their leaves, and the canopy of these desert woods was quite thick in the canyons. Higher up the mountains were wide grassy plains fenced off occasionally by ranchers. The gargoyle discovered bands of humans in a hundred different niches, roughing it. They were only a few miles from the city, but in total wilderness, singing songs around pit fires, and sleeping in tents of canvas and cloth cocoons. 

He coasted off with the favorable warm night breezes. From high up in the air, the gargoyle could see that this was not one city, but a long string of interconnected cities tucked between the Wasatch Range on the east, and the Oquirrhs on the west. He explored the high rocky spaces about the city, on the same mountain where he and the human had met before. It was unusual, in that it bore two large peaks composed of slanting rock that ran out to wide alluvial fans forming a circle around the valley where the hillside plummeted down to the valley floor at a steep angle, like a great beach head. There, in the valley, the city lay like a sea of multicolored stars, occasionally interrupted by the mark of a large skyscraper down toward the heart of the city, near the cathedrals. Along a rough line down the side of the valley near the mountains, a crack and slip of the earth had been built over by the humans. 

This valley had once been an ocean, he deduced, explaining the great beach heads against the mountains above the city. The gargoyle concluded that all that remained of this sea was the Great Salt Lake. However, upon contemplation, he realized this was not true. There was still a sea here, a sea of civilization. 

The gargoyle was amazed... even awed at the landscape. It was incredible the things the humans had done. Not a terrible, wasteful thing as he'd long believed, but beautiful... graceful... he was lost for words to describe it. A nest of civilization set between the Wasatch mountains, the Oquirrhs, and that Great Salt Lake to the north with the mountainous island rising from it's center. 

The jagged slip bank was obviously due to the moving of the earth. On an ocean bed? That was suicide! As beautiful as it was, this city had a death wish. No sane king would build his kingdom on the bed of a lake or sea where the earth moves! The land would swallow the castle when the land next moved! The gargoyle had seen it happen. 

Sighing, he found a modest red sandstone cave atop the twin peaks, where he opted to spend the next day. 

But not yet. He had something he needed to do before this night was over. 

  
  


  
  


Daddy was there when Christine returned to her dorm. Michael "Mike" Shelton, was standing by his car door, whistling to her. 

"Been driving around for an hour looking for you! When you weren't at the diner as usual, I got worried." he shouted. Christine rushed over to meet him. He whistled with astonishment at her expression. 

"Wow! You look you've been through the wringer this week! What on earth happened?" 

Christine smiled. "Only today, daddy. I... fell." 

"Bad day for climbing?" 

"You could say that." 

Daddy winced with sympathy at the thought, and patted her shoulder. She knew how he felt about her climbing, and he would let it sink in by the look that he gave her. Christine sighed, and climbed into the passenger side of his small four door tawny colored Toyota Tercel. 

The small square house in the countryside beyond Park City to the east was brightly lit, as though everyone had been waiting a while for her return. Once they reached the house, Christine had become so thoroughly ingrained in the deep melancholy mood she had been in to possibly get out of it. Upon leaving the car she encountered everyone in her family, waiting for her. 

Of course mom wasn't there, and things seemed a bit hollow that she was gone. Yet, here and there she had left her mark, a picture on the wall, a knickknack, some saying or action that betrayed her influence upon them all. Matthew and Keturah "Ket", 13 and 11 years old respectively, were both hyper and excited when Christine came in the front door. Ket jumped up onto her shoulder, making Christine wince and rub her shoulder. Matthew was a strange boy, probably the most fashion-conscious of the family, he often gave Christine advice on what or what was not "en vogue". He usually acted distracted, and often tended to live in his own little world. Keturah was the most like mother though, in Christine's opinion, because of her innocence and mysterious nature. Sometimes Christine looked at Keturah, and saw her mother come to life. 

Even though Christine was probably not acting as enthusiastic about being back with them again, she felt it all the same. Here was the only place in the world with decent people she knew and she could halfway trust. She didn't know why, but she did not trust people easily. 

Matthew was doing something with dishes and silverware when Christine came in, and dad went right about orchestrating the details of getting dinner on getting dinner on the table. 

Christine sat down at the table right away, lost in thought. Mike noticed how distant she seemed, and decided not ask her to help out with things. 

"Why so quiet, tonight?" Matthew asked. Matthew was far too intelligent for his age, a trait that Daddy said Christine shared. Mother had been the really smart one, though, ten years ago. Ket was a prideful little girl, the one Christine thought she most resembled. 

"Hard day." Christine answered blankly. 

"Why?" 

"Oh, I met this really strange guy, and he..." she admitted. 

"Ah, Christine has a boyfriend!" Matthew summarily announced to the household. No one else paid him any attention. He did that whenever Christine came back from college for a day or two. He was obsessive about Christine's lack of a love life, almost as much as Mandy. Such a strange boy. 

"Oh be quiet, he is not." Christine said, lightly but defensively. 

"Why 'ya thinkin' about him, then?" 

"He's just different." 

"How?" 

"He just is." Christine shrugged, hiding the irony in the statement. 

"Why don't you ask him over for dinner, then?" Daddy asked, smiling. 

"Oh, stop being pushy." she replied, lightly defensive still. "You don't know a thing about him. Besides, I'm almost nineteen and I've got my whole life in front of me right now to be worrying about romance." 

Daddy was setting a few bowls and things on the dinner table, as Christine lightly snacked on tidbits here and there, waiting for everything to be done. 

"Perhaps." he said, "but you can always start with someone like him. You never know what might happen." 

"Daddy, really. What will happen, will happen. Would you just let it go?" 

"No way! If I know you, you'll hole up in a text book or a museum somewhere and not come out until you're forty." 

"Yeah, whatever dad." Christine muttered. Daddy only smiled. 

Christine's gaze fell to the table top. The wind had risen outside, and the grass in the field was rustling outside, creating the sound that sand makes when it rustles in your hand. Christine softly touched her mother's black and white photograph in the red plastic frame. Always in the center of the table during meals, it was symbolic. Daddy had often said that, 'She's always in the center of our lives.' 

"Daddy?" 

"Hmm?" 

"What was mother like? I'm having trouble remembering." 

Ket and Matt were quiet, but dad's eyes stared up into the room with a glossy look. 

"She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her heart leapt with the deer and ached with the rain." he whispered poetically. "She was so sweet to you. She was protective of us all -- probably what got her into so much trouble. She loved to talk about your friend GT's newest figure, and secretly wondered if it would come to life." 

Christine looked up, surprised. "She did? I never knew that!" 

"Oh, it's not that she was crazy or anything. Just innocent." 

Deathly silence. Christine shifted nervously. He'd said that before, but she had never learned what it meant. Could it be her mother had known about gargoyles? 

At the sound of an unfamiliar tap at the window, Christine lost her train of thought. "What was that?" 

"Probably just something blown on the wind." Matthew shrugged. Christine wondered for a moment more, and then turned back to her thoughts and her family. 

The gargoyle behind the window watched from the shadows the entire night, unnoticed by everyone. As Christine slept that night in her attic bedroom, she never saw the figure in the shadows beyond her window in the moonless night that watched her. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Dark shadows mingled in the meager light on the forest floor where the Dreamer stood. At first, the Dreamer could not say from where the light came, for it was the darkest of nights. Then she saw the candles. Hung throughout the bows and branches of the trees were small tin plates with small, lit candles on them. Though bright, the light they gave was minimal, and the forest was full of shadows still. 

She was hungry. She needed to find something to eat. 

Turning about, she saw the man. He stood behind her in ninth century leather armor and sword. He watched the Dreamer with deep, unfathomable eyes. He stood oddly with wide splayed legs, as though something about his armor made him stand that way. His sword was drawn, but not raised. Rather he held it down and relaxed as he watched her. His face flickered and changed with the changing light of the candles, but his expression remained straight. She thought she recognized this face from someone she knew in waking, but the light changed so quickly that she could not make out who it was. 

Then they became one. Somehow, without moving toward each other, the Dreamer knew that they had merged and become the same person. Now it was the Dreamer holding the sword. She raised it, and began to step forward. She felt it's weight in her grip, but somehow it's weight did not pose any for bother her. 

She stood on the brink of a tree limb, hundreds of meters above the ground, with the candles flickering around her. From this height, she could not see the ground below. The Dreamer retreated from the brink, and found herself on a wooden suspension bridge hung between the branches of two great trees. One tree was laden with beautiful fruit, the other with strange, dark, and oddly colored fruit. 

The Dreamer took a bite of the lovely fruit from the near tree. It was sour and rotten. She spat it out, and threw it down. 

Looking at the fruit on the other tree, she wondered if it tasted better. She took careful hold of the ropes, and began to cross the bridge. 

Suddenly, a man dropped from the sky, and landed on the bridge before her. She thought she recognized him. 

"Do I know you?" the Dreamer asked. 

"Do not leave us." he said calmly. 

"I have not left you." 

"You are leaving us." 

"But the fruit is sour." the Dreamer complained. 

"It is what we all must have. Who are you to say that you must have something else?" 

"I just want to know if it is better." 

Defeated, the dark phantom became a cloudy and completely unrecognizable form - wailing at her. 

"NO! YOU MUST NOT EAT THOSE!" it cried, like an imprisoned soul. 

"Why mustn't I?" 

"IT IS THE WAY OF YOUR PEOPLE!" the voice wailed again. 

She felt the warrior inside her take action. Raising her sword, the Dreamer attacked the dark, vaporous mist; charging across the bridge and slicing at it as she went. It cried out in agony, faded and was gone. 

Approaching the other tree now, she saw that this dark fruit was not rotten. She ate one. Although it's outside was prickly and rough, inside it was soft and sweet. It quenched her hunger and she felt stronger. 

The Dreamer looked around her. This end of the bridge was good. Here, there was a house built in the tree for her. Inside, she could see candles had been laid out for her return. She sheathed her sword, picked another fruit, and went inside. 

"SO BE IT THEN! IF YOU CHOOSE THIS PATH, WE HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO FIGHT YOU!" the phantom's voice raged behind her where she could no longer hear. 

  
  


* * *

When Mandy caught Christine whistling in the shower the next morning, she became suspicious. Her suspicions later became anxiety when Christine finished all her papers at work in the same day. However, what really blew Mandy away was that Christine was in the mood to fix dinner that evening after classes. Everyone in their room watched her whistle and cook simultaneously, as though they were watching an ant winning a boxing match with a bear. 

"Really, Chrissy. Either you're in love, or you had some great sex last night. Either way, that's a frightening concept for someone like you." Mandy pointed out. "You're glowing!" 

"Someone like me?" she asked, incredulously. 

"You yourself told me you were a virgin." 

"I just didn't realize I was doing it." Christine shrugged, returning to the original topic. 

"Are you going to be there tonight?" 

"Would you rather I stay here and study?" 

"No! Of course not." 

"Who are you going with?" one of the other girls in the room inquired. 

"What? Tell you and let Mandy tell the whole university? I don't THINK so!" 

  
  


Christine met the gargoyle on the side of Twin Peaks, near where they had met the night before. Christine called out for him once the sun had gone down. He appeared, dropping out of the branches of one of the trees on the wooded slope. Christine jumped back in shock. 

"You startled me!" she accused him. 

"No, I frightened you." he corrected Christine. 

"That too." Christine added. "Look, I don't mean to be telling you how you should live your life, but I think you need to learn some more about the humans around here. If you're just hanging around up here, you are never going to find a way to avoid going on rampages through museums. Besides, you need to know who your enemies are, don't you?" 

"True, however..." 

"Great, then. Some friends of mine have been begging me for days to find a date to take to this costume party their having. I've always dreamed of winning first prize or something, and I wanted to bring you along. What do you think?" 

The gargoyle scowled, uncertain. 

"You need to know more about humans," Christine stressed pointedly. "This is the best chance you're going to get." 

Solemnly, like signing his death wish, he agreed. Christine climbed into the driver's seat of her old Chevy Malibu, waving for him to climb in next to her. "I've gotta think of something to call you. Ever driven before?... press the metal end into the little thing by the side of the seat." Christine instructed him as he fumbled to imitate her actions with the seat belt. 

"What does it do?" 

"It keeps you in the seat if the car stops suddenly." 

The next thing he managed to learn was to use the control for sliding the window down. He stuck his head out and let all his long white hair stream behind him in the wind. 

Christine was still thinking about GT, and what Mandy had suggested about this gargoyle being a boyfriend. She would have mentioned it to the gargoyle, but he was so busy comparing driving to gliding that he was not paying any attention. 

Christine sighed. She was willing to wait. 

  
  


After fumbling around in the chest at the base of her bed for a few minutes, Christine discovered her mother's wedding dress which she had worn for Halloween a few months earlier. She loved the feel of it, all soft white gauze and lace in the back. Her mother had given it to her to wear only on special occasions, before she had died, and it seemed appropriate, given all her thoughts about her mother of late. When she was wearing it she felt like someone else - someone who was more than herself - and perhaps, to some small degree, beautiful as well. It was as though she had no problems in the world and could act entirely carefree. Christine loved the feeling. She normally had such a low sense of self-esteem that anything that made her feel beautiful was welcome relief. 

The gargoyle had done nothing more to improve his rugged good looks than to put on a sports undershirt with large sleeves that allowed him to slide his wings through. Christine was amazed he had done it without tearing the shirt too badly. He looked a little like a combination of a sports figure and a movie actor, in the light shirt and loin cloth. Christine shrugged. They had better get first prize for this one, she thought. Then she dug about in Mandy's closet for a few moments, and finally uncovered what she had been looking for -- Mandy's leather jacket! The gargoyle zipped it up over his folded wings, leaving their extended length hanging below like some strange form of tuxedo tails. Christine wished she had not used all of Mandy's film. He was big enough that he fit the jacket perfectly. It was one of those items that Mandy had acquired from one of her male associates, who had been quite large, and emphasized the white T-shirt underneath and his broad chest perfectly. Christine admitted, perhaps, she was a little aroused by him as well. 

Mandy, her roommate, was a tall girl with a figure she barely kept through rigorous weight training. Christine thought she was just killing herself with all that unnecessary work - the female form was just not designed to hold that shape. Just as long as Christine could climb, she didn't care how she looked to everyone else. 

As she and her uncommon date approached the brightly lit and decorated Cultural Hall, Mandy noticed them coming up the sidewalk, and came bounding out the door. With the braids of her medieval princess getup flying behind her, she rushed to greet them with the friendly enthusiasm and carefree attitude that Christine had always admired in her. 

"It's a great party, Christine! I'm glad you came. Everyone will remember this year's college graduates!" she exclaimed. 

"We don't graduate for three years." Christine returned. Mandy shrugged it off, taking a look at Christine's gargoyle companion. 

"Love the costume, big guy." she said, "I want to hear about everything you and Chrissy have been doing." 

The gargoyle looked to Christine in his bafflement, but she merely shrugged. Mandy had seen the pictures, but Mandy seemed to be in some kind of total denial. "Some people I will never understand." she whispered. 

The party was a joint activity between the men's and the ladies's dorms. This was mostly a church function, so dress and dancing standards were being enforced by large and portly women wielding large cooking spoons. 

The gargoyle obviously did not trust her. Most of the time he appeared ready to fly at a moment's notice. Christine tried to quell commentary about his costume to ease his discomfort. Frankly, all the questions of the curious about her "date's" identity were making her nervous as well! 

All of the girls from Christine's dorm were whispering among themselves, trying to figure out who in the world Christine's date was. Christine, afraid he might get himself into an awkward situation, acted possessive of her "date", so that, in truth, she could keep an eye on him. He was pleasantly intrigued by the treats on the dessert table, and asked many questions about why humans interacted the way they did. 

Christine tried to introduce him to all her friends as politely as she could. Most appeared very impressed at how "realistic" his costume was. What surprised her more was that he understood just how humorous their comments were, and smiled at them. He was not much of a dancer, she had to admit, since he didn't know the steps to any popular dances. He could do a simple sway nicely. What a couple they must look like, Christine thought, one leather jacket and one wedding dress! 

The music was not very different from what the gargoyle had expected. He seemed to have heard a lot of this music from a distance before. 

"As a hatchling, when I had barely learned to glide, I would sneak away at second meal to a home a few miles to the southeast of my clan's home. There would always be some music playing there. I would just hide and listen until nearly midnight, when they would turn it off and go to sleep." he explained. 

He had little enthusiasm for some songs. However some strong but slow songs got his attention very well, and he appeared to feel the emotion of the song very strongly. He learned to time his sway of motion while holding Christine to the rhythm of the music. There were even some heavier, more rock and roll style pieces which he enjoyed -- but Christine didn't try asking him to hold her during those. She tried urging him to at least tap a foot to the beat to show he was enjoying the music, but he was too engrossed in the lyrics, so she finally gave up. Besides, there was some danger in what his foot might do to the floor if he tried... 

However, the biggest attraction for the gargoyle at the party remained the dessert table. Whatever his diet had been in that out-of-the-way hole he had been taken from, it was nothing to the modern pastries available at the dessert table. Cookies, punches, cakes, doughnuts, everything was new to him, and he ate with curiosity and vigor. 

"Iw wike thews." He muttered to Christine with his mouth full. Christine slapped her hand over his mouth. 

"Swallow." She directed. He did. "Show me gargoyles at least know basic manners." 

"I like these." He repeated clearly. 

Christine's eyebrows furrowed. "Where are you from, anyway?" 

"Who are they?" Christine suddenly asked. The gargoyle had asked many times who the people were during the evening - some she couldn't identify because of their costumes, however, this time she was pointing to three ladies on the opposite end of the hall, watching them like hawks. All three had the same face, same profile, same clothes (no costumes), same hairdo, but different hair colors. She was intrigued. 

Christine couldn't pin down the age of the three girls. They had all the stance of a twenty-something year old, but faces that seemed to be of thousand years old set in stone. As Christine and her "date" approached them, the three nodded toward the back of the building so that they could see, and then began to walk out in that direction. Christine and the gargoyle just looked at each other for a moment, and then followed. 

Outside, in the sheer darkness of a night with barely a slip of a moon and no one in sight, they wondered if these three were not just somebody come to look in on the party. They were about to shrug it off and go back inside, when there was a sudden burst of light. 

Immediately in front of them, three figures stood in the air in front and above them, glowing with a beautiful radiant energy. Christine was more surprised than the Gargoyle was, because she ducked behind him with a surprised yelp. There were those three women again, this time in flowing white robes and with gold circlets running around their brows. They had long pointed ears and slanted eyes. The first had greyish white hair, the second golden blonde, and lastly one with ebony black hair. 

"Who are you?" the gargoyle demanded fiercely, a growl rising in his throat. Christine watched with narrowed eyebrows. 

"We are servants of Oberon." 

"We bear you no animosity." 

"We come to ask a favor of you." 

The gargoyle stared at them with trepidation. "You'll forgive me for being suspicious as to the nature of your request." 

"We do not ask for any great sacrifice, 

"Only a favor when the battle comes" 

"To this part of the human world." 

"What battle?" Christine inquired in a low voice. She was ignored by the gargoyle. 

"I will aid any if I can." the gargoyle agreed. He seemed very hasty to be polite to them, or perhaps to be of some use to someone again, for he said it with great concern. 

The three turned to Christine. Their gazes were like owls' late after dark, piercing and frightening. The gold haired one turned to her, as if first noticing her existence. She made a simple three word inquiry of her. 

"YOU accompany him?" 

"Well, sort of... only recently..." Christine stuttered. It's not like she was on the best of terms with him. Things had been rather tense between them so far and she was not sure she could really say that they were friends, as much as Mandy might dream about him being her boyfriend. The gold haired one leaned over to the white haired one, and whispered something in her ear. 

"Would you consent to accompany him," 

"In the tasks we would ask of you?" 

Christine was baffled at what she was agreeing to. She could sense hidden meanings in all this, and that frightened her. The gargoyle was looking at her expectantly. "Be polite." the gargoyle warned her, whispering in her ear. 

"Yes I would, but I can't make any promises..." she replied. 

"Done, then!" 

"Very well." 

"We shall meet anon." 

"The Dark Warriors approach this part of the world." 

"We must all be prepared for the battles to come." 

"Be watchful warriors both." 

Then it was dark, and the three were gone. 

"That was strange." Christine noted. "Who were they?" 

"Messengers of some sort, with some relation to Oberon." 

"Oberon? As in the king of fairies from A Midsummer Night's Dream?" 

"He is the father of a race of Changelings, creatures of magic and sorcery. I learned about them during my rookery days." 

"Dangerous?" 

"Only if you make them angry. I'm glad to see you did not." 

"I'd feel a lot better knowing what it was I agreed to." 

The gargoyle nodded. "I doubt they meant us ill." he reassured Christine. 

"I wish I could agree. Do you think we've had enough of people for the rest of the evening... and the rest of this year?" she was starting to get irritated. There was just so much about her gargoyle... companion that she simply did not understand. 

"I suppose we have. It is time to leave." the gargoyle said, and began to move toward the door. They only made it about half was across the dance floor before Christine suddenly stopped. 

"What is it?" he inquired, concerned. 

Christine was rubbing her shoulders. "I don't know. I just had this pain in my shoulders..." 

"Hey, Chrissy!" Mandy said, running over. "You want to join us for a game of Hearts?" 

Christine did not reply. She had dropped her face into her hands. She took a deep breath, and looked up. "What was that?" she asked. 

Mandy's face became concerned. "You okay? You look kinda pale..." Christine's expression turned a horrific combination of annoyed, angry, and pained. She turned, and glared at Mandy with an expression that said leave-me-alone-or-I'll-tear-your-guts-out. Then she growled... vocally. The sound, like the gargoyle's loud, vocal, animal growl, reverberated in her throat. 

Mandy took an involuntary step backwards. Christine let her breath out slowly, her expression suddenly twisted with astonishment, clutching her throat in her hands. 

"Did that come out of me?" she gasped in shock, eyes wide. 

Mandy and the gargoyle nodded. Christine put a hand on the gargoyle, to steady herself. 

"I just had the strangest feeling..." Christine said dizzily. 

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor!" Mandy suggested. 

"I feel so hot..." Christine whispered. She nodded her approval. They began to move across the dance floor once again, as the gargoyle tried to lead and steady her. 

Then Christine screamed, the wild, high pitched scream of a wounded jaguar. Her friends were all wide eyed, now. The room fell into chaos as all conversation stopped short and people looked up in terror, and were shouting in alarm and concern. Christine threw her head back, hair flying. Her eyes glowed like red hot cinders in her face. 

"CHRISTINE!" Mandy exclaimed in horror. The gargoyle's eyes were wide with astonishment. The air rippled with powerful magic. 

Christine gripped the sides of her face and screamed again, shuddering in pain, standing on her toes. The gargoyle stared down at her in wide-eyed horror as she writhed and stumbled forward. She had grown two great horns, cresting along each side of her head. Mandy and the gargoyle gasped. Christine clenched her fists as the muscles in her arms and legs suddenly tightened. She had only four fingers! 

The sound of ripping cloth was heard. From the back of her shoulders a pair of doubled wings sprang out and unfolded, demolishing Christine's mother's beloved wedding dress. From the base of Christine's spine, a tail ripped through into skirt of her mother's wedding dress. Her skin tone drained to a ghostly white and then flushed to a pale pink tint. Her fingers became talons, stronger and sharper than stone. Her pumps split open, as three toes burst out, and a pointed fetlock grew in place of her ankle. She became taller, muscles bunching and growing. Her voice pitched, deeper and fuller. Her legs extended further apart, and her knees and elbows became sharply barbed. Her wings grew as full as the gargoyle's, with their backs covered in a soft ebony velvet. The upper set of wings bore three little fingers at the tip, and overlapped the slightly smaller, more delicately shaped lower set. Her tail grew as long as twelve feet, like the gargoyle's. With her mouth open, they all saw her teeth had become great pointed fangs. 

Christine's screams fell silent as she fainted and pitched forward. The gargoyle quickly caught her up in his arms and flung his wings wide. 

The gasping and gawking students gave cries of astonishment at the sight of one winged creature hurrying out with a second. His wings were not just an odd part of the tail of the costume? 

The gargoyle took Christine and ran with her out into the parking lot, leapt atop the hood of an unfortunate car, and then up onto the cool night winds. 

Dazed and in complete shock, Mandy slowly picked up the torn remains of Christine's white pumps. 

  
  


The metamorphosis had not stopped, and Christine's entire frame was shivering and convulsing. They needed to set down somewhere, and fast. The gargoyle glided across over Salt Lake City looking for some place to land. 

The rooftops were nothing like Dublin or London. None of the houses had flat roofs. The only stone or cement buildings were downtown, full of lights and noises. They were all flimsy buildings, and the gargoyle doubted they could hold the weight of a someone atop them. There was no where to hide in this city! 

Then, he noticed a small building, a cathedral, with balustrades atop towers at either end, hidden in a grove of trees in the busiest part of Salt Lake City. It was night, and few were about. The gargoyle swooped downtown, to set down there. From a quick glance around him, he did not suspect anyone had seen him. Someone looking from one of the nearby skyscrapers might have only passed them off as fleeting shadows in the night. 

Christine whimpered. "Daddy?" she asked, looking blankly and unfocused at the gargoyle. "I feel so strange..." 

Was she becoming delusional? "Tell me about how you feel." the gargoyle asked. She did not seem to hear him. 

"Pain..." she moaned, stirring in his arms. "the pain..." 

"You were just put through something very painful, try to be calm." the gargoyle said, trying to be encouraging. 

"It's so quiet..." she rambled in a daze, "...can't see..." 

It was possible all her senses had been blinded in the transformation, and obviously she was feeling completely dazed and confused, he reasoned. 

Christine appeared to be both deaf and blind. 

"Christine," the gargoyle called her by her name, "Can you hear me?" 

Carefully laying Christine down on the tiles, the gargoyle brushed aside a few months of dust and dirt left on the roof. Then he propped up the back of her neck, as he had been taught. Her breaths were quick and harsh, while her pulse was erratic and kept changing it's rhythm. Perhaps the transformation on the outside was being followed by a transformation on the inside? The gargoyle had not been prepared for this, though he could not say he hadn't expected something like this to happen... 

This human had tried to be friendly toward him. Seeing her being put through this ordeal made him feel some responsibility for her and he rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She seized his hand and clasped it in both her own and her violent trembling eased and finally stopped. 

Clearly, internal things were still happening. Blood vessels bulged and then receded. Alternately her skin paled and then blushed. He watched it continue for a few more minutes until it all finally came to a stop and she seemed to be stabilized. 

Her eyes, which had been dazed and unfocused, closed, and then reopened, clearer now, their misty haze seeming to lift. Christine looked at the gargoyle for a moment in the dark as her eyes slowly found focus. She gasped once, startled. She could see and hear again. 

"You..." she said. Her voice was different than it had been in the cultural hall near the university. It resounded more, had a rich new fullness to it that the gargoyle decided he enjoyed. "It's you... what's happening to me?" 

"Whatever it was, I think it is over." he replied simply. 

"I feel so weak, so tired." she moaned. 

Did she realize it yet? Does she know what has happened? 

"What do you recall?" the gargoyle inquired. 

"I... I don't know... we were leaving the cultural hall, Mandy came running over... then I blanked out." 

Could it be she was blocking it out? The gargoyle had heard of such things before. 

Christine tried to sit up, but was not able to hold her balance. The gargoyle extended a paw, offering help. Gingerly, she extended a hand. The gargoyle took it, and helped her to a sitting position, leaning against the battlement. 

She did not withdraw her hand though. When the gargoyle let go, she paused, looking at her hand. It was dark out, and the gargoyle did not know if she could see it. She turned her head, and placed the hand between the night sky and her eyes. There was enough light from neighboring buildings for her to see it. 

She gasped repeatedly. "What...? My hand?!!! How...?!!! My voice..." Christine touched her throat, as though it were the culprit. She then laid her hands against her face. "What?!!!" 

She felt the curves of her cheek bones, and the horns that had grown around the crown of her head. She began to make choking noises, as she ran her hands down her sides in the dark. Her dress was torn badly in the back, however the parts that held the shoulders and the front to it were not damaged. The skirt was little more than torn tatters now. 

She pushed on the tiled floor of the roof, and stood up like a newborn colt, unsteadily, with newborn legs trembling and quivering. Christine felt her feet, long and pointed with sharp talons and razor barbed hocks. She felt the barbs on her knees and her elbows. She found the tail she had grown, and ran her hands along it's length with an expression of mixed horror, shock, and wonder. Standing in the light from all of the buildings nearby, through the trees shown through, she could see the massive wings behind her. She felt their weight on her back, and she was stunned. In an almost frightened way, she flexed both pairs of wings, and wiggled the fingers at the apex of the larger pair. She ran her tongue over her rows of sharp, feline teeth and fangs. 

"What have you done to me?" she whispered. The gargoyle did not answer, but shifted awkwardly. Christine clasped her hands around her chest like it hurt. "WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME?!!! I'm like you! I'M A... A GARGOYLE!!!" She threw her arms back, and screamed like a wild tiger in fury. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!!!" 

Christine took her claws and began to scratch at her chest, as if trying to tear her very skin off her body. She tore the dress wide open in the belly. The gargoyle was afraid she would soon draw blood. 

"No, don't do that!" he interceded, seizing her hands and holding onto them. 

"Get it off me! Get it off me! I'm not a creature... I'm not a monster..." 

"CHRISTINE, STOP IT!" he commanded forcefully. Christine stopped, and stared at him with a look of terror. For some reason his gaze held her attention. The gargoyle stood, holding her wrists in his stone-like grip. Christine fell to her knees, burbling and about to cry. 

"Please..." 

"I don't know what has happened, but I am not going to let you hurt yourself." he said. 

"I'm... I'm not like this..." she said, tears starting to well up from the wells of her eyes. 

"Do you believe I am nothing more than a monster?" he asked, gentler now. 

Christine said nothing, only looked at him, eyes wide with narrow, crescent-shaped pupils. The blue and grey gargoyle knelt next to her. 

"Did you think I am a monster? Did you think that you were never one to me? You need to see the truth behind appearances, Human." 

Christine just shook her head with her mouth open for a moment, then corrected him. "I'm not human, not anymore..." 

"There is more to the world than just humanity." 

"An animal, is that what I'm being reduced to?!!! I'm never going to go to school again, I'm never going to be able to show my FACE in public again... everything in my life is gone!" Christine cried bitterly, the tears dripping down her face heavily now. "MY LIFE IS RUINED!" 

"Perhaps... perhaps it only begins. What good are those things if they can be lost to you so easily?" 

Christine did not reply. He was wrong, wasn't he? 

"I thought you hated trying to be social - hated being around other people. Were there not times that you called all people fools? I know you hated trying to put on a face for the kids at that party?" 

"How... how did you know that?" 

The gargoyle sighed. "I've been watching you... ever since I met you, I've been watching you at night." 

"But, why?" 

The gargoyle shifted nervously. "Because... you were willing to make peace with me... you weren't afraid of me, you didn't want to kill me. It seemed a strange thing for a human to do, and so I was curious." he stammered, trying to explain the feeling. 

Christine watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was telling her the truth. 

"I can't tell you if you were better off before or now, because I don't know. No one in this world that I know of has the power to do something like this except for a very good reason." he said. 

"You mean those three weird women at the party?" 

"Possibly. They were Fay Folk, certainly powerful enough to do this, and I know you've never met anyone like that before tonight." 

"Why would they want to do this to me?" 

"Good question." 

Christine drew in a breath. The gargoyle watched her, concerned. "I'm all right." Christine said, taking a deep breath. "I'm calm." She walked to the edge of the parapet, looking out. "I'll survive." 

"I'm sorry." the gargoyle apologized. Christine shifted nervously, but nodded to him. 

Experimentally, she spread her wings wide behind her, and stepped up onto the rail atop the ramparts. For a moment she looked doubtful. What was wrong with her? Hadn't she always wanted wings? Why was she so frightened? However, the old Christine had never backed away from a daring new challenge. She would not back away now. The gargoyle stepped up beside her, and together they leapt into the air beyond. "I'll never get used to jumping off rooftops." 

At first, Christine's flying lessons were simply going from one parapet to the other on either end of the building. She was quick student, and soon they began a second lesson, gliding across the city, hand in hand (for stability). 

Their courses were in slowly widening circles, high above the lights below. 

"You know..." Christine began. 

"Hmm?" he replied, staying near her. 

"I gotta have something to call you. You can't go on being 'hey-you' or 'that gargoyle.' You need a name." 

"A name? Gargoyles do not use names." 

"Too bad, you need one." She thought the problem through for a moment. Christine and him, she pondered. Her thoughts turned to her tattered wedding dress and what she could possibly wear in this form. She suddenly laughed. 

"Why do you laugh?" 

"Phantom. Your name is Phantom. Phantom -- of the night." Christine announced, banking her wings slightly east. The gargoyle was puzzled, not understanding her meaning, but followed her glide. 

Christine glided more steadily down toward the university on the east side. Phantom, as she called him, followed. 

Her landing left a few things to be desired perhaps, as skidding across the lawn on her back, totaling the last of the dress. She muttered something about needing to work on her landing as Phantom came to a perfect perch atop the outside wall. 

"Showoff." she accused him. "I'm going in to..." she sighed, realizing the drastic change her life had now taken, "tie up a few things." 

"I will stand guard over you." Phantom said. 

"Fine, but don't let anyone see you." 

  
  


"Chrissy, open up the door!" Mandy shouted, pounding on the bathroom door. "You've been in there for an hour." 

"For a very good reason Mandy, wait a minute!" she shouted back. Mandy, despite the self-centered approach she had taken since she had returned from the party, finding Christine in the bathroom, found she was actually very worried about her. Roommates do these things, after all. 

"You sure you're okay?" She heard Christine sigh from within. 

"As okay as I can be like this." 

"Like what?" 

The latch on the door clicked. Mandy turned the knob and carefully, slowly, stepped in. Mandy's jaw hit the floor. 

Christine Shelton, the gargoyle, stood in her underclothes, sewing the last touches on a pile of navy blue athletic wear on one counter. 

"For heavens sake, close the door." Christine chastised her, as she stood looking at her. Mandy blinked, and locked the door. 

"You're a... you're..." Mandy stuttered. Christine wore her trickster's smile. 

"I know, it's an ugly shade, isn't it?" 

"WHAT are you?" Mandy managed. 

"Hungry. I think Gargoyles have different appetites." 

"G... g... Gargoyles?" 

Christine looked at Mandy with an amused air. "Who do think that guy was I brought to the party?" 

"The one in the great costume?" 

"Come over here and touch my talons, tell me it's a great costume. Don't get all sentimental on me, I've already had enough of that on my own." Christine sighed. 

Christine stood up, laying the clothes she had been working on out across the floor. Mandy looked at the white/pink gargoyle's full stature, and momentarily stepped backwards. Christine pulled the outfit over her legs. She slipped her... tail through an embroidered hole she'd made in the seat of it, but couldn't get her wings into it. 

"Ow! I've got a problem." Christine complained. Mandy stepped over to her as Christine struggled to put the outfit on. 

It was her polyurethane navy blue climbing outfit, with the short shorts attached by a seam to a short sleeved top. Christine had cut out the sleeves, and made the armholes very large on the back. Now she was trying to fit both her arms and wings through the holes - and it wasn't working. Her wings were simply too big, even for the foot-wide hole. The shoulder straps would not reach to her shoulders. 

"It's too small for you, Christine." Mandy observed. 

"That's odd, it used to be too big." Christine added. "I think all my sizes grew out several inches. I need to get these on. I've got nothing else to wear." she said, trying to pull up the shoulder pieces. Christine let it fall to the ground again, and Mandy picked it up. She looked at it thoughtfully. 

"I'm not the tailor you are Christine, but I have a hunch." Mandy offered. She took a pair of scissors, and cut the shoulder straps right in half on each side. As Christine restitched the edges, Mandy fitted small leather threaders onto them, and resurrected some blue shoelaces to tie them with. 

Christine tried it on again. This time, Mandy simply put the shoulder straps on her, without her moving her wings. The ends were a few inches apart, but they laced together tightly. 

Once it was finished, they stared into the mirror. It showed way too much of her back now, as the material stretched. 

"Looks like a Superman costume." Mandy laughed. Christine smiled. 

"I don't know... I like it, tight as it is. It's good for gliding." 

Outside the bathroom, Mandy looked at all the boxes Christine had scrounged up to move all of her belongings out. "You do, of course, realize that there will be all sorts of people looking for you." 

"I have a feeling that I'm not alone in this." Christine said. "If it is possible that we have other friends out there, then I want to find them. Other gargoyles." 

"After all the time we've been together... I really want to help, Christine. But I can't simply give up my life here." 

"I'm gonna have to!" Christine replied bitterly as she picked up her purse from her night stand. "Can I use your fanny pack?" 

Mandy tossed the blue belt bag to her. Christine picked a few items from her purse and placed them in the belt bag. She tied the bag around her waist, wondering curiously just how much wider her waist was as she had to widen the strap. Then, she idly tossed the purse into the trash. 

"Hey! That's a good bag!" Mandy protested, plucking it out again. 

"Keep it." Christine muttered, half thinking. 

"You know, you're acting like a woman about to commit suicide!" 

"Social suicide, perhaps. However, I never had much of a social life before, now did I?" 

"Christine, this is crazy!" 

Christine grabbed Mandy's collar, lifting her off the ground, and flaying her wings wide in the room. "No Mandy," Christine growled with an animal's growl, eyes glowing with crimson flames, "THIS is crazy. Somebody turned me into a gargoyle -- with magic. REAL magic! Besides, I've wanted to fly all my life, but it wasn't handed to me on a silver platter! I had to pay for it somehow!" 

"You be careful." Mandy growled back at her, only without the animal noise. This was her way of chastising Christine for overreacting again... and telling her roommate to put her down. She did. Christine's face perked a small smile for a brief moment before she turned back to her packing. 

She began to place anything from her personal belongings of any use or interest onto her bag. A book or two, a pair of binoculars, her karate class equipment (Michael encouraged self discipline classes for all his children), a camera, and her compound bow were all placed into her backpack. She slung the bag over her back as though it were weightless. Christine then boxed everything else she had opted not to take. 

"Send these back to my dad. He'll find something to do with them." 

"Christine, if this has something to do with your folks..." 

"THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM!" Christine shouted, suddenly infuriated. "Mom was killed years ago by a drunk driver, not by any of... of MY kind. I am not about to go on a revenge tirade." 

"Your kind, huh?" Mandy observed. "Well, I'm gonna keep pretty close tabs on you, where I can." 

"Fine, in fact I'd appreciate it. I'll write." Christine said sarcastically, forcefully placing the last of the boxes near the foot of her bed, lifting them as if they were weightless. 

Finished at last, she turned her horned face to look at Mandy. For a moment, she settled her wings onto her shoulders. Watching her, Mandy's expression was critical, but there was something a little more tender in it... and her eyes were tear-filled. Mandy, the great joker, upset about her roommate leaving? 

"Oh, now don't start that, Mandy." Christine scolded, "I am NOT killing myself. I've just found a really interesting guy, and I'm... running away with him. I thought you'd be pleased." She tried to laugh. 

"I just have this feeling you're never coming back." Mandy sighed. 

"Perhaps." Christine noted. "There is some kind of battle going on, and I have been consigned to help one side of it. I would at least like to know I can still come to you for help." 

Mandy was fighting back tears. "Always," she promised, holding out her arms. 

For a moment, as they embraced, Mandy seemed to be much smaller and lighter than before... almost fragile. Christine felt suddenly, overwhelmingly protective of her roommate. 

"Chill out, Mandy." she said finally, sounding lighter than she felt. "I'm more afraid of your surgeon's knives now, than any highway rapist." 

Mandy laughed. "You keep yourself off my operating table, then. The last thing I want to have to do is opt not to dissect the new specimen because she used to be my roommate." 

"Now you're catching on." Christine winked at her. 

  
  


Mandy and Christine were always very cautious about using the roof keys so that none of the other students would know they had them. Now, after making sure no one else was around in the hall or looking out windows, they stepped together out onto the roof where Phantom waited. He was a bit surprised, both at seeing Christine in her tight, clean-cut clothes; and at seeing Mandy with her. 

After a silent exchange of nods, Christine and Phantom leapt into the air over the dorm complex, swooping into the night sky. Mandy watched them go, hoping that someday she... they... would come back to her. 

  
  


"So, Phantom? Where do you suggest we go first?" Christine asked as they rode upon night wind. 

"Go? What do you mean go?" 

"Well, I'm not gonna hang around here for the rest of my life. Besides, you sort of suggested that there were more of your... our kind out there somewhere. Personally, I'd like to find them. I want to have something to do... something meaningful... so I can feel there's a reason for... changing... and leaving my home and family." 

Phantom sighed, as though it pained him to admit it. "I don't even know where I am." 

"Terrific." Christine sighed in frustration. "Then there's this war we're supposed to be fighting with those floating... fairy people." 

"Fay Folk." Phantom corrected. 

"Whatever." Christine champed her teeth, and stopped talking. Phantom could tell she was frustrated. He felt it too. 

Christine touched down in a darkened city park, tossed her backpack onto a table, slung her legs over the bench, and sat down. The weak wood seat of the table snapped under her, and she hit the ground, on her tail. 

"Fifty benches in Strawberry Park, and I choose the one with the bad seat." she muttered. Phantom simply came to rest on the limb of a tree over her head. "Terrific. Not only am I now a total social outcast, but I've lost all sense of purpose in my life. You've got me tagging along with you now, Phantom. What were you going to do with me? What am Igoing to do with me?" 

"I... I had not decided..." Phantom stuttered. Christine was trying hard to handle this well, but her grip on things seemed to be... slipping. 

"How on earth did I get myself into this mess?" she muttered, on the verge of tears again. She threw her arms out onto the table and dropped her head down onto them. Her horns pressed into her arms like hard bone. 

Phantom looked crestfallen. He began to stutter again, but Christine held a hand up to stop him. "Just let me have some time alone, okay?" 

With a bound, she leapt up into the night wind. Phantom remained behind, holding her bag and watching her turn once in the air without any clear direction in mind. 

Suddenly a low flying chopper roared overhead. Phantom threw his head back, eyes wide with alarm. In a rush of impulsive protectiveness for Christine he slung her bag over his shoulder and climbed the tree to gain altitude. From the chopper came the sound of a gunshot. An instant later he heard Christine scream once... and saw the chopper speed toward her, catching her in a net. Frantic to reach her now, Phantom launched from the tree and caught an updraft of wind to race after the chopper as it sped away toward the Wasatch. 

  
  


* * *

"Christine..." 

The Dreamer floated in a medium of sleepy darkness. She would have slept on, but the voice became too insistent. 

"Christine..." 

"Who's there?" 

"Christine, darling, it's me." 

"Mother? How did you get here?" 

"Oh, Christine... I've wanted to speak to you for so long." the Presence sighed with longing. 

Somehow, the Dreamer's thought were clear, unmuddled by wants and angers. Only her feelings were real. "Mother... I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?" 

"I'm always with you, honey. I told you I always would be." 

Christine didn't respond... she couldn't. 

"I gave you a gift, Christine, a long time ago. I gave it to you the day you were born. That gold amulet, remember?" 

"Yes -- GT has it." 

"Every time you held that amulet during the twelve years I was with you, it poured something into you which was given to me when I was little." 

"What was it?" 

"An energy, Christine, a power like nothing you have ever used before. That Amulet was given to me by a very ancient woman in South America when I was still in my cradle. All I remember is her long ears, long red hair, and the instructions she told me. She told me to pass them on to my daughter when she was old enough. That is why I am here." 

"Instructions?" the Dreamer asked in confusion. 

"You, like me, we're given this ability for some kind of purpose. Already, you are beginning to learn of it." There were some painful memories there, of a caring soul betrayed so many times... so many scars. "Then I met the gargoyles, Christine. I was thirty and their leader was a beautiful soul. They asked me for shelter from hunters, and I gave them everything I had. 

"The gargoyles...?" 

"Then a man came to me, Christine. He told me to either give up the gargoyles, and tell where they were hiding, or else I would be killed. I vowed to them that someone else would take my place if I failed, and I would not tell them where the gargoyles were. Then came the drunken driver coming down Parley's Canyon. I'm so sorry, Christine..." 

The Dreamer was aghast. "Mother... I killed one of them..." 

"I know, honey, I saw it happen. It was an accident. You must not blame yourself. I'm not talking just about that gargoyle, either. You could not have known the freeway wasn't safe that day five years ago, just as you could not have known the cliff was not safe this week." 

"What am I to do, Mother?" 

"Fight the battle, Christine. You must. I know you don't know how or why yet, but you must never give up. Remember, you are always my daughter, no matter who you become on the outside. Your name, Christine, is the most precious gift I ever gave you. Most of all, guard your name -- it can truly save you." 

"Why me, mother?" 

"Because only you have the heart to protect them, Christine. My daughter would grow up to protect them, and so will yours. It is the role our family was given in the world by some very special people." 

"Who, mother?" 

"I love you Christine... we will be together again soon, I promise." 

A misty shape formed in the darkness of her mind, the shape of her mother as she had appeared five years ago swirling in the sands of her mind. 

"My darling..." her voice echoed as it faded from the Dreamer's mind, filling her heart. The figure's eyes were closed, and her arms were clasped across her chest. Resting lightly across her brilliant ruby colored body like a cape were her double sets of sandy red wings and her tail was curled over her legs. 

  
  


Christine was hot and sweaty when she awoke. Her first thoughts were toward all the spotlamps shining on her. The second thoughts were not thoughts at all, but a feeling... her mother was somewhere near. There was also a voice... 

"...are running the vehicle's license number and registration through the computer to learn who's car it was. The driver of the semi was apparently intoxicated, his blood alcohol level was nearly fatal. Yes... we now have the identification of the car that was destroyed." 

Christine wondered where the voice was coming from. She looked around the room - it was a back room at GT's museum. A small television in the corner was the source of the voice. 

"The vehicle was apparently parked on the side of the canyon road, not more than a mile from the Roland Art Museum. The vehicle is a complete loss, but authorities are certain that the body inside the car was Ms. Christine P. Shelton, apparently student at the University of Utah. It appears that her body was crushed in the nearly one hundred mile per hour force of the impact..." 

Christine watched in confusion the news video pictures of her own alabaster white form, bloodied with crimson, being pulled out of the crushed remains of her small eight- cylinder Chevy Malibu, in the dark. 

"How...?" she exclaimed. She was right here, a gargoyle. Unless that wasn't her... 

"Christine?" GT's voice echoed through the room. Christine spun around to see her boyfriend coming out of his office. "Is that you?" 

GT, in his suit and tie, saw Christine, and hurriedly backed away in apprehension, holding his gun at her. Her form probably frightened him. 

"It's alright, GT. Listen to my voice, it's me." 

GT was visibly shaking. "How...?" 

"I was never in a car accident, GT. That was never me. I'm right here." 

GT stopped cowering from her, but instead noticed something about her that he recognized. Stitched into the climbing outfit were the letters he had ordered embroidered there: CS. 

GT looked at her face, relaxing on the run slightly. "You sure?" 

Christine reached up and ran her knuckles on across his hair. 

"HEY HEY HEY, Stop it!" he laughed. "Okay, I believe you. It must have been someone else who came rampaging through here Monday. I was trying to catch him." 

"Yeah," Christine affirmed. "Ah, Phantom. It's okay, it won't happen again." 

"Luckily Steve's alright. It was only the sleeper shell that landed on him - the rest of the truck was demolished, though." GT sighed. "What the heck happened to you? You look like a stone grotesque from eleventh century renaissance..." 

"They're... we're called Gargoyles. From what Phantom tells me, our kind have been around for awhile." 

"But... how did YOU become one?" 

"How did I wind up with a double who died in a car accident?" 

GT sighed reservedly, and motioned for her to follow. They left the backroom where GT had been guarding her, and sat down on a step near a display case in the main museum floor. Christine pulled over a chair with it's back to GT. She threw a leg over the chair, and peered over the back of it. "Don't ask me how... it just happened." 

GT sighed. "Thank God. I couldn't imagine you meeting such a pointless death as your..." 

He stopped when Christine swung her head away as though she were about to cry. "My mother." 

"I'm so sorry, Christine. I didn't mean to..." GT stammered helplessly. 

Christine put her palm over her eyes, trying to calm down. "Yes, I know. She died the same way, didn't she?" 

"Well, down Parley's." he muttered. 

Christine sighed. "I am such a wreck lately, aren't I?" 

"Everyone's had better weeks." 

"GT, can I ask you a favor?" 

"Anything." 

"I... need to take mother's Amulet out." 

"Why? Is something wrong?" 

"Yes. I can't explain it, but there is some kind of reason why she needs me to have it. I just... had a dream... and this feeling..." 

"Only you know the combination to the case." GT reminded her. 

Christine moved over to the case and punched the number in. It began to ring in alarm. 

GT scowled. Christine scowled. "The code's changed." 

Christine's eyes began to burn and glow with a brilliant crimson light. She snarled with frustration. In a burst of anger, she tore the alarm from the pedestal with a swipe of her claws, leaving a large swipe through the wood, and pieces on the floor. GT jumped back. Her eyes had returned to normal, and she was looking at the amulet. GT whistled. 

"Whew-ee! Remind me not to make you angry, babe." 

"Got any kind of a string I could use to wear the thing with? I don't want to loose it." 

GT puzzled that one for a moment, dashed into his office, and pulled out an old discman with a shoulder strap. 

"Would this do? The CD player's broken -- haven't used it in years. It was just sitting on the bottom of my drawer." 

Christine took it gratefully, disconnected the strap, and found a small place to click it onto the amulet. The amulet itself was nothing more than a small gold disc with a rounded edge, and an unpolished jade set in the center. There were many small inscribed symbols around the disc on both sides, but neither she nor GT had ever been able to determine their meaning. They seemed to be a jumble of ancient Mayan hieroglyphs and some kind of odd runes that they could never identify, but closely resembled ancient Celtic but in a pattern so completely vague it came out as nonsense. The most clearly prominent figures were of people with markings of light radiating from them. 

"Who on earth could have changed that code?" GT was muttering. "Maybe I should check all the others." 

"A better question is how a body that looks like me got into my car before it was smashed." Christine wondered. "The pictures looked just like me." 

"It WAS you." came a new voice. 

Christine suddenly felt a shiver go down her spine, and her tail twitched. There was a feeling of evil in the air. She tapped GT on the shoulder. "I think you should go now." she told him aloud, mouthing the words "go get police". GT looked over at the figure that had spoken. Slowly Christine turned to face him. A dark cloaked figure stood directly behind her. GT scampered out of the room as Christine stood up straight before it. 

"As far as the humans know, it was you." it said again. Christine padded in front of the figure, and squinted, trying to see his face. She caught a glimpse of a pale grey beard and sunken eyes. 

"Who are you?" 

"My name is Obscurmalo." 

"Are you responsible for that?" Christine inquired, motioning with one paw at the back room where the television sat. 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"We were doing you a favor. Now they will not come looking for you." 

Christine straightened, hands on her hips. "That was a favor? What do you mean?" 

There was a slight chuckle from within the dark confines of the shadowy robed figure that stood before her. "You have been working for us." 

Christine scowled. "What?" 

"You are my servant." 

"The devil I am. What do I do, then?" 

"You were sent to destroy the gargoyles at the cliff top. You destroyed one of them." 

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the other one is still out there." 

"You could not have killed him had you tried." Obscurmalo sneered. "You have done well." 

Christine's eyebrows narrowed. "You destroy gargoyles?" 

"They stand in the way of our goals." 

"Then why turn me into one? You'd just have to kill your 'servant'." Christine spat. 

"That was not our doing. Ours enemies did this to you." 

Christine turned her back to the specter. "That part I believe." she padded down the hall a moment, clasped her paws behind her back, and then folded her wings across her shoulders. "So you have a master?" 

"I am my own master." 

Christine silently cursed. Where was Phantom when she needed him? She had a very bad feeling... "Very well, then I'll tell you. I am no longer your servant. Go find someone else to do your dirty work. I am a gargoyle now, so you are my enemy." 

The chuckle that sounded this time shook the room, and became a deep, ugly laugh. "Ha ha! No, I think not. You shall be returned to you human form. 

"You don't own me." 

"Oh yes I do - if only you knew it!" he reiterated quickly. Then slowly added, "It really is too bad you could not have been there as we'd hoped. Your life would have ended quite dramatically, as your mother's did." 

"My mother?... you mean in a car crash?" 

"A pointless death." 

Christine's fists clenched, and she unconsciously began to growl deep inside. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense. Christine was able to make several deductions at once. "At least I hear the truth this time. You didn't expect me to turn into this, but to return to the mountains and drive home afterwards. Then you could slam your truck into me and splatter my guts across the freeway." 

"It would have been beautiful." Obscurmalo smiled. 

Christine dashed forward and grabbed the man in the robe. She picked him up into the air, and throttled him over her head. "WELL YOU FAILED, GRAAAAAARGH!!!" She growled at him in anger. 

"Mark my words carefully, Christine Shelton. Very soon no human will remember your name. You will be remembered by none but those I shall choose. It will be as though you had never been born." 

"Yeah? Well, we'll see about that." Christine threatened. 

She was about to throw the ghostly body against the wall in a fit of anger, but something inside her made her set the dark figure down. The museum was her territory, and she could not damage it. Christine turned, and began to walk away again. Since when did her temper rule her?! She wasn't usually this bad? Who was he? He was certainly no one normal. It might not be a good idea to anger him until she knew more about him. 

She suddenly felt the amulet tingling against her chest and looked down where it lay. The stone in the center of the small gold disc was pulsing with a soft green light. Fascinated, she took it between her talons and held it up. 

She did not have time to cry out. As she was distracted there was a rush of air, and Christine felt a sudden sharp pain in her back. Something had torn through her back and pierced deep into her heart. Already there was blood on her tongue. Reaching behind her, Christine grasped the dagger and pulled it free. Intermingled with her blood on the weapon was a fine white powder. 

Poison. 

Christine sagged against the wall, pointing a talon at the cloaked figure. 'I failed...' she thought, 'I failed.' 

As she collapsed on the floor the dark figure emerged from it's cloak into a distinguished man of indeterminate age sporting a whitening beard and long silver hair. His eyes were dark and deep set, and his face twisted into a cruel smile as he traced a strange motion above Christine's still form, causing her body to rise up into the air. The lights in the room dimmed momentarily, and Obscurmalo looked up at the occurrence. 

Suddenly, a great burst of light erupted in the air where Christine had fallen. It became a tall pillar of brilliant energy. Out of the pillar of light, a figure stepped. She was dressed all in white, with a silver sword at her side on a gold belt. The long dress swept to her feet, but still betrayed her three toed feet as she strode boldly out of the light. Her flesh was a brilliant ruby red, with a touch of violet in it. She bore two long slender horns, long and curly brown horse hair, and had Christine's double butterfly wings, as well as a much more dignified version of Christine's face. She spoke in a commanding voice which reverberated off every wall. 

"MY NAME IS TUTELA, AND YOU HAVE MY CHILD." 

  
  


Christine's senses were suddenly dancing, as she returned to consciousness. She felt weak, but something new was happening. 

  
  


"And what of it, Tutela?" Obscurmalo taunted. "You are dead. You have no claim upon her any longer." 

"What was taken from me cannot remain apart from me forever. I would reclaim what was taken from me. You will either give her to me now, or I shall take her in force." 

Obscurmalo laughed, the insane laugh of sociopath. "Ha! Tutela, you and I both know that cosmic order is nothing. It was bent a long time ago, and can continue to be bent." 

Christine, still submerged deep within her mind, cringed at his voice. 

"Did I say I shall fight you?" Tutela was responding. "Nay, the living are left to do that task. However, you have now done sufficient damage for her to pay for her deeds for you. Try and control her now, dark warrior." Obscurmalo's face betrayed a momentary hesitation. He glared down at Christine. She continued to lay still on whatever forces of magic held her in the air. Obscurmalo was disappointed. 

"She is still alive!" he accused Tutela. 

"Of course. It was not my daughter's destiny to take revenge against you in another dimension. You have dug your own grave, Obscurmalo. Time will see to that." 

  
  


  
  


Christine's mind was still floating between two places. There seemed to be something holding her afloat above the darkness of unconsciousness, but she could not reach consciousness. She felt that she was not asleep, but was denied awakening! An idea came to her, in a momentary flash of insight. During the night, she had dreamt of her mother telling her she had... magic? Could it be possible? She had obviously been transformed by some strange power wielded by those three strange sisters. Could she do it also...? 

She extended her senses outside of herself, seeking an answer. Suddenly her thoughts reeled back when they connected with another set of thoughts that were not her own. 

"I AM HERE, CHRISTINE." 

Christine's mind was awash and she could not grasp at words. She allowed the rush of her own scattered thoughts and feelings to flow towards the other. 

"YOU MUST REACH THE AMULET, CHILD." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Christine's paws twitched. Obscurmalo could sense an exchange going on, for he had begun to back away. Tutela simply stood in the air, watching him. Her eyes glowed red, and her claws appeared ready to swing out at him. A light, subtle a first, began to form between the ghostly form of the red gargoyle, and the still form of the pale pink one. In the stream of energy Christine began to stir and turned her face toward the increasingly bright light. Her eyes burned red. Christine's paws finally grasped the amulet around her neck, which glowed with an emerald green light in response. Christine's form began to softly glow. 

The bloodstain remained on the skin of her back, but the bleeding had stopped. Now Christine moved slowly to stand up, her talons grasping in the air above the floor. The drifting ghost of the red gargoyle faded and vanished into her body. 

"I... I am the..." The voice was Christine's but there was another voice within it, deeper, subtly different. "I am the wa... the warrior of light... y... you have no power ov... over me." She panted heavily, her pulse racing faster and faster. 

From the air, Obscurmalo produced another poisoned weapon with his dark magic. Christine stood limply before him, watching his moves. 

"You will not survive." He threatened. 

"Since when... has that bothered... us...?" Christine's dual voices said. 

Her claws pried another locking mechanism off a display case. Reaching inside, she drew out a long broadsword from late eighteenth century Spain. It was long and slender, with a brilliant blade of caspian steel. 

As Christine lifted the sword, Obscurmalo hesitated with his deadly projectile. 

"WHAT ARE YOU?" He exclaimed, backing towards the end of the room. 

"We are Christine, the warrior of light." her combined voices replied, her voice stronger now. 

Strength filled her limbs, as she stood up straight in the air. 

Obscurmalo realized now he was hesitating and quickly threw his dart. Christine reflexively ducked to the side and raised her sword. It was met by another sword, dark and twisted, held by the dark figure moving before her into a fighting stance. 

"Two can play that game." he jeered. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Christine's mind cried out in agony. **STOP! PLEASE, STOP! YOU'RE HURTING ME!** 

I am sorry, child. There is no other way. Your magic is not strong enough yet to grasp all of the power that is flowing through you. I need you to concentrate on where you hurt. Keep thinking about making it better. Christine wanted to not to think about the pain, but did as she was instructed. 

  
  


  
  


Obscurmalo brought his weapon down, trying to wrest Christine's sword from her grasp. What grip she had on it was weak, but she held on, parried once, and twisted to the left. Coming up to a second position, she brought her blade down again where it was met by the dark sword. 

Sparks flew. 

"You can't keep this up forever, Tutela!" Obscurmalo warned. Already he could see the sweat breaking out on Christine's brow. 

"We shall endure." Christine said firmly, her dual voices sounding flat. "But how long shall you endure this?" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


**What are you doing?** 

Trying something. Keep doing what you were doing. This is my labor. You try and keep yourself together. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The energy glowing green from the amulet changed color, burning the same red as Christine's eyes. The dark figure saw it. 

"You freak! You can't hold that up forever!" he spat. 

He swung widely, more at the amulet, than at Christine, but her sword was moved to center, and caught the slice. She twisted her sword over, turning around in the air without moving her feet, as thought she were flying, and pushed in with her sword, finding herself eye to eye with her enemy. 

His eyes were hollow, but she felt no surprise. 

A powerful swing of her tail left the dark one earthbound on impact, while she still hovered above with her sword held over him. The crimson light in her amulet blazed brighter and Obscurmalo began to sweat. 

"You can't possibly beat me, either of you! This is the closest you shall ever get!" he cried in rage. 

"Run, Obscurmalo. We have other means at our disposal. Begone, We command thee -- in Oberon's name!" 

Obscurmalo's face twisted in anger. He almost seemed to growl, but in a twisting motion he vanished into the air. Christine's body sighed and collapsed with her wings sprawled out on the floor. 

The ghosting form of the red gargoyle emerged from the confines of Christine. She turned about with anxious eyes, and watched Christine. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Christine? How are you honey?" 

Christine began to whimper and cry like a small child as the red gargoyle stooped down, wings arrayed overhead, and caressed her cheek with a transparent hand. "I'm sorry, my dear. I wish it did not have to be this way." 

"Come with me, Mother." Christine pleaded. 

"I dare not, my fair one. I may be dead, but must continue my quest. I cannot come back to life now, but your thoughts give me life enough." A tear rolled from Christine's eye. "Be strong, little one. A gargoyle's is a great heritage to receive. Remember, we will always be together." 

Christine backed into one corner feeling a new sensation come over her, like nothing she had ever felt before. It was a warm, pleasant feeling, but somehow it was strangely stiff. 

"Hold tight to the amulet, dearest. By evening, you shall be whole again." 

Christine let out a small shriek as the stone overtook her. Her four-taloned claw reached out to hold her mother back. "I love you, mother!" she wept. It was her last conscious thought as the sun rose. Satisfied, her mother's form shimmered and became human again before fading away. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Phantom knew exactly where Christine was, and once he awoke that evening, he could feel that she needed his help. There was a good wind of warm air rising from the cooling earth, and he descended back into the canyon triumphantly, and stole his way inside the museum. 

On the surface, the repair crew had been hard at work. Each of the displays were empty, and the carpets had been torn out. A small dark stain on the bare floor was all that remained of the pool of blood left by the fight before dawn. 

In one corner, Christine had just emerged from stone only a minute or two before he had arrived. He found her staring at the stone bits left on the floor. A single patch of carpet still remained in place - exactly where Christine had slept in stone. Now it showed the deeply matted impression left by her stone form. 

"You have dried blood on your back." Phantom observed. 

Christine looked up with surprise. 

"Was this... me?" she wondered aloud. 

Phantom looked at the stone shard she held and explained, "Every night the body gives off waste stone. It's part of the sleeping cycle." 

Christine rubbed her pointed elbows for a moment. "It felt so... weird being stone... kinda warm... like sleeping, I suppose." Phantom smiled. "Yeah, I know. This was cute, right?" Christine nodded sarcastically as she found her feet again. Except for the blood stain on the skin on her back between her shoulders where the outfit did not cover, she appeared very normal. 

"You do not appear any worse for your experience." 

"My experience?" 

"The blood between your shoulder blades indicates something." 

"Remind me to find a place to wash off." 

"There are plenty of small lakes around here. Besides, it will probably be gone with another day's sleep." Phantom observed. "As for me, I had a small run in with our three floating friends." 

"And?" 

"You never told me your mother was a sorceress." 

"I never knew. Now I now that she tried to save the lives of some gargoyles, and these dark warriors we seem to be fighting against arranged her death." 

Phantom nodded. 

"She is... was a gargoyle, Phantom, not a human. I don't know how, and I don't know how I know that, but I just do." 

Again, Phantom nodded. 

"Doesn't anything surprise you?" 

"No, not really. I'm hard to surprise. Although, I have to admit you tend to surprise me a lot." Phantom noted. 

"Phantom, there's a lot more to you than you let on." Christine cautioned him. 

Phantom lowered his eyebrows at her as he slung down the bags he was carrying. 

"Here are your bags. I have an odd feeling, but I think we need to meet someone out there with information where my sisters were taken to." 

Christine pulled her backpack on, and clicked the smaller bag around her waist. "I'm game. Sounds like a plan. Where do you want to start?" 

"I don't know... north?" 

"How about the second star to the right?" Christine inquired. 

Phantom looked at her inquisitively. 

  
  


"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!!!" Mandy demanded, shouting into the night air. "The cops wanted me to identify your body. I didn't know what to say! Hey, my friend got turned into this huge monster with wings and a tail?!!!" 

"What did you tell them?" Christine asked, as she deftly swooped her wings to execute a better landing atop the dorm roof. 

"I told them I was very suspicious that it was not. Whoever planted the body forgot your wallet. The police weren't satisfied with that, and so I showed them your right foot." 

"Your right foot?" Phantom inquired. 

Christine lifted her right foot to demonstrate. There was a small scar, about an inch long, just above her ankle. "Had it since I was ten." Christine explained. "I take it that it wasn't on that body?" 

"I had to take a pen and draw it on the body to demonstrate - I was pretty convincing." Mandy said with pride. "What happened to you two?" 

"A long story for both you and Phantom." Christine sighed. She explained. 

"I don't get it." Mandy mused after Christine had reiterated the whole story for her and Phantom. 

"I know... I'm not sure I do either. Mother, or 'Tutela', as she called herself, seemed pretty sure I had the ability to defeat this guy on my own. I could almost sense her... envy of me." Christine thought aloud, brooding over a cup of hot chocolate. 

She was dressed in Mandy's bathrobe, her hair tied back and thoroughly combed -- a little wet still. A hot shower and some hot chocolate had done wonders -- although she had discovered washing wings in a dorm shower just a bit challenging. 

Mandy sighed. "I guess that's just part of the mystery." 

"Christine, what do you make of this?" Phantom asked, handing her a small piece of ancient parchment. 

"Looks old." Christine observed. "The text is old too, but I can still read it. Fantasy's Magic Shop, 102 East Center Street, Manhattan New York." Christine read. "Sounds like an address written by someone with a gothic sense of humor." 

"Never heard of it." Mandy announced. "And I've even been to Manhattan before." 

"Phantom, where did you get this?" 

"I found it in my belt after I ran into those weird Fay sisters this morning before dawn." 

"It's probably a hint." Mandy observed. 

"But a hint of what?" Christine wondered quietly. 

Christine handed the paper back to Phantom and took another swallow of her hot chocolate. 

"Keep that paper, Phantom," she cautioned. "Whatever it means, it may eventually be important." 

Mandy sat down on the couch next to Christine, turned to her, and placed an arm on her shoulder. 

"May I?" 

Christine nodded. With extravagant curiosity, Mandy took out her doctor's kit, and took a pulse, blood pressure, temperature, and what seemed like a hundred other measurements. With the childlike curiosity of a pre-schooler's first visit to the zoo, she felt the ebony velvet fur that lined the back of Christine's wings for air flow. Then she stroked the long tail and watched it flick about excitedly at her touch. She was amazed at the intense level of sensitivity that tail had. She started making educated guesses and theories straight off. She guessed her talons and bone were made of a new material that made them more resilient than steel, but was obviously organic. Her wings used a technique of shifting air from one primary wing membrane to push downward on it, and another to manipulate the direction she moved, quite different from the design of Phantom's wings. Her little wing fingers could indicate some sort of link with flying dinosaurs. It seemed to take all the mystery out of it for her. 

Finally, when Christine was nearing the point of annoyance, Mandy took out a small dental instrument to look at her teeth. 

"Oh... wow. Talk about carnivorous. I can't see how you're going to eat anything plant-based with all those sharp teeth, and... OH!" Mandy suddenly exclaimed. 

"Wha-?" Christine muttered with all those tools in her mouth. 

"Retractable fangs?" 

Phantom, holding a towel and watching Mandy's procedure as intently as she herself was, gave a gasp of surprise. "What?" 

Mandy quickly pulled another instrument from her case. 

"Open as wide as you can." 

Christine opened her jaws wide. With her forceps, Mandy carefully pulled down into view a pair of long needle-like teeth from the roof of Christine's mouth and into view. Even more carefully, she ran a small instrument along Christine's gums and under the ends of her teeth. The fangs squeezed out a bit of small white fluid on Mandy's instrument. 

Phantom took a sample of it on one talon, tasted it, and spat it out violently. "Viper's poison!" he announced. 

"You mean..." Christine asked uncertainly. 

"You have snake's fangs, extremely venomous." Mandy concluded. "I take it this isn't a normal gargoyle trait." She looked at Phantom. 

Phantom nodded his own disbelief evident in his expression. 

Mandy presented her findings. "This is weird. Your blood pressure is kinda low, pulse is racing -- there's more than two echoes to it. Maybe your heart has more than four chambers. Temperature is acceptable -- if you're a bird. Go ahead and throw that thing with the poison on it into the garbage. Maybe the rats will find it. Christine, can you feel the temperature in here?" 

Phantom gave Mandy a harsh look, before placing the tool with the poison into a small container labeled Biohazard. "You're no fun." Mandy noted. 

"Yes, it's not cold. Bit warm in fact." Christine replied. 

"Then you're obviously not a reptile. I can safely say you are warm blooded. However, that still does not explain why your body temperature is so low. Perhaps gargoyles are a combination of both warm blooded and cold blooded animals -- mammals and reptiles. The only way to know for certain is to see the birthing process." 

Christine smiled, apprehensively glancing at Phantom. "I'll see if I can arrange it for you." 

Phantom swallowed with a genuinely fearful expression, and gave her plenty of room. "I'm sorry!" he added. 

Mandy snickered. "What? You mean you DON'T want to stay a spinster?" 

Christine glared at her. "I was JOKING -- sheez, Mandy." 

Mandy took a small sample of blood in a test tube. Christine watched her run it through a small PH and testing reader she had dragged back from the Medlab. Mandy looked into the microscope with excitement. "A lot of salt -- you guys sure won't taste too good." 

"I'm comforted." 

"I'm not finding any evidence of white blood cells, lymphocytes, or any type of internal defense mechanism. It seems you've out evolved the need for it. There are a lot of heavy metals in here." 

"I'll be impressed when you can tell me what these are made out of." Christine motioned with her talons. 

"Well, give me a clipping and I'll take it to the chemist's lab tomorrow." 

"I think it'll break your nail file, Mandy. Maybe a bandsaw." 

"I can just see you placing your hand on a circular saw." Mandy laughed. 

"Whatever, but first..." Christine picked up the tube with her blood sample in it, and threw it into the fireplace where Mandy had a large fire going. "I don't want anyone finding that." 

"HEY! I was going to keep that! Isn't that being wasteful of your own blood?" 

"Call me cautious. Phantom, did you have a shower?" 

"Well... it the tube was nice too, you know." Mandy muttered. 

Phantom nodded, rubbing all his hair with the towel. 

"Can't say he looks any different." Mandy noted. "I would never want blue skin. *sigh* The dorm ladies would have a cow if they knew he was in here." 

Christine's thoughts were elsewhere, on the trip they were about to undertake. "We'll go by land. It might take us a while, but we'll make it eventually." Christine declared. "A lot of gliding, though. You'll be here when we get back, won't you Mandy?" 

Mandy laughed. "I've already set up a separate E-mail account on my computer for you. I'm that close to you. Once you've memorized that paper, destroy it." Mandy handed a slip of paper to Christine with a string of letters, an "At" sign, and a dot. Christine nodded, crumpled the paper, and ate it. 

Mandy watched her with trepidation. "That was fast, Braino. Taste good?" 

"Sort of... I'll remember the address, don't worry. Just don't tell anyone. Let's keep this top secret." 

Mandy rose her arm to the square. "I won't tell, promise." 

Christine nodded. "Let me get dressed, and then Phantom and I will start out. I 

wonder if this Fanny person even knows what gargoyles are..." 

  
  


* * *

  
Nighttime sharpens   
heightens each sensation   
Darkness stirs and wakes the imagination   
Silently the senses abandon their defenses 

  
Slowly, gently   
night unfurls its splendor   
Grasp it, sense it -   
tremulous and tender   
Turn your face away   
from the garish light of day,   
turn your thoughts away   
from cold, unfeeling light -   
and listen to the music of the night! 

  
Close your eyes   
and surrender to your   
darkest dreams!   
Purge your thoughts   
of the life you knew before!   
Close your eyes   
let your spirit start to soar!   
And you'll live   
as you've never lived before! 

  
Softly, deftly,   
music shall surround you   
Feel it, hear it   
closing in around you   
open up your mind   
let your fantasies unwind   
in this darkness   
which you know cannot fight   
the darkness of the music of the night 

  
Let your mind   
start a journey through a   
strange, new world!   
Leave all thoughts   
of the world   
you knew before!   
Let your soul   
take you where you   
long to be!   
Only then   
can you belong to me 

  
Floating, falling   
sweet intoxication!   
Touch me, trust me   
savour each sensation!   
Let the dream begin   
let your darker side give in   
to the power of   
the music that I write   
the power of   
the music of the night! 

  
You alone can make my song take flight -   
help me make the music of the night.   
  
  


("The Music of the Night", The Phantom of the Opera) 


	2. Clan

Edited by:   
Pegasus   
and   
MaryK 
Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
Last revision: February 29, 2000 
Revised by:   
Cinnamon   
and   
Dasha Ariel 

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

  
  


* * *

1996 

  
  


The traces of magic were faint, but Christine followed them cautiously. The gargoyle girl moved with stealth, but she also managed a strange degree of grace in her step without ever knowing it. Christine was not kidding when she proclaimed skill in woodlore, she knew the tricks to moving silently through the brush and brambles of the deep mountain woods in a moonless night. She moved without a sound, tracking him. 

Suddenly she turned about in the woods -- she saw something! The only light she could see was displayed on her glasses -- weaving, twisting patterns like strands of muscles and sinew, projected up against the dark loom of the forest. The image of what was around her was projected onto the display, as only magic could see it. In small blues, it displayed the fibrous lines wrapped around trees, bushes, and boulders. Except -- for all the dim blue patterns, there was also a bright green object on the display, obscured behind the branches of the trees over her head. 

He kept very still. She had never found him before while he hid this far up the trees. 

"Found you!" Christine announced. "Tag! You're it!" 

Phantom laughed his quiet, haunting chuckle, and let himself down the trunk of the tree. 

Christine watched the bright green object in the tree descend on the display. 

"You stand out like a sore thumb." 

"Does it show the trees and terrain at all?" Phantom inquired. 

"Yes, but dimly." 

"That makes sense. If the land reacts to the Fay, it must have some inherent magical properties." 

"That would suggest that animals and people would have inherent magic as well." Christine observed. 

"Aye. Look at yourself in the display." 

Christine held up her four fingered paw before her face, so that the sensors saw her arm. In the display, a brilliant red form in the shape of her paw appeared in the display. 

"Oh, whoa!" Christine exclaimed, holding the glasses back from her eyes a bit. "I'm bright red all over." 

Phantom snorted. "I'm not surprised. I've been getting the feeling that you have a lot of magic in you ever since..." His voice trailed off, uncomfortably. 

Christine huffed angrily. "I must stand out a mile away." she muttered. Phantom swallowed the rest of what he was going to say, and hopped down on the forest floor. 

"To a Fay, yes. What you've managed to create there is a way to see with a Fay's eyes... to see magic." Phantom explained. 

"Well, not see exactly. Kind of like a magic radar." Christine said. She pulled the discman-shaped device off her dagger sheath's strap, and pointing it in Phantom's direction. "It sends out bursts of magic and reads what magic is reflected back." 

Christine held the device up to her eyes. She whistled. The device's tip was emitting a brilliant aura of color in the display. "It displays what it receives back through the ring, and turns it into colors on the display. The ring simply translates magic into small electrical impulses." 

"That device would be far more visible to a Fay, than you are." 

"Like a beacon." Christine observed. She clicked a small switch on the top edge and the aura at the tip of the device was gone. The device was black against the night of blues on her display. "There, now it isn't showing up at all... Now I'm the brightest point of magic around here." 

"Is there a pattern to your magic? That's how you tell what kind of spell it is." 

"Well, the trees and the shrubs all have this pattern of wavy blue lines. My hand is a whole bunch of odd sized red dots." 

"If it is not 'a bunch of wavy lines' then the pattern isn't natural." 

"Your saying that I'm seeing the... spell?" 

"Possibly. Transformations are unusual. There are many ways to do them. I was taught three basic techniques, but there are others. Some ways do not show as anything but natural. It is possible you are seeing another spell I am not familiar with." 

"Terrific." Christine sighed. "I'm under a whole lot spells. I could try and refocus the emitter behind your ring." 

"Why? The emitter's energy signal is what makes the ring emit the magic pulses." 

"Yes, and the energy received is then read. The patterns that come back in, are fed to the display. However, I can refocus the pulse emitter that makes the ring emit magic." 

"That could be dangerous. If anything absorbs the magic, it might be affected. Random patterns of force are natural everywhere, that is why they look like wavy blue lines. A single stream could form an artificial pattern in whatever it hits." 

"A spell, in other words." 

"Exactly." 

Christine slipped the glasses off her eyes for a moment, and adjusted two small coils near the head of the device, where Phantom's ring was soldered to it amid a cluster of small black tubes. Then she turned the emitter on again. 

"There..." Christine said. "A straight line. Whoa!" she quickly replaced the glasses over her eyes. "Careful!" 

The beam that it emitted was thin as thread, and totally straight. She shot it up harmlessly into the sky. 

"What possible use could this be?" she wondered. 

"Well, this is a bit risky, but try firing it at something." 

Christine puckered her lips. She stopped the emitter for a moment, and pointed it at a rock. 

"Firing number one." She turned the switch on again. 

The fast stream shot out by the emitter, shown as a white line on her display. The fine blue lines surrounding the rock she has selected were blown away as the stream touched it. 

"It's going so fast that it's pushing the magic out of the rock." said Christine, as she shut if off. 

Looking down at the rock, she dared to run her talons across it. 

It crumbled to dust. 

Alarmed, Christine jumped back. "Deadly thing, ain't it?" 

Phantom nodded thoughtfully. "Strange. It seems we need to slow it down to create spells." 

"I can handle that." 

"Not now." Phantom patted her shoulder. "That's enough for now. I have every confidence you will become a fine sorceress." he reassured her. 

"Eh heh. Sorceress, right. You're hilarious, Phantom." 

"It is not a laughing matter, Christine. You just turned a stone to dust." 

Christine shifted uncomfortably. "What if I shot myself with the emitter? That'd disrupt the transformation, wouldn't it?" 

Phantom's eyes widened as he turned to her in alarm. 

"NO!" he exclaimed. 

Christine raised her hands in surrender. 

"I didn't DO anything!" 

"Don't point that at yourself while it's firing a single beam! Do you want to turn parts of your body to dust as well?" Phantom warned with genuine concern. 

"Good point. I just wanted to.... break the spell, you know?" Christine stuttered defensively. 

Phantom sighed, clutching his heart. "Don't scare me like that. It is possible that we have created a very dangerous weapon here." 

"Just take your ring out, if you're worried." Christine assured him. "Do you think the weapon is dangerous enough to use against the Dark Warrior?" 

"Most certainly!" Phantom gloated. "This combination of science and sorcery is beyond anything they know of. However, I have only one magical ring." 

"Could we use it to make more?" Christine asked. "There must be some sort of pattern we could form in another small glass or sapphire lens." 

"It would require study." 

"Wait a sec... why is it your magic is brighter than the natural random patterns of force? Is there a spell on you too?" Christine asked critically. 

"I have always understood that it was our means of turning to stone in the day. If it is more than that, then it is not a spell I am aware of." 

"Let's hope it's just that, then." Christine noted. "I'll have to find some other way to get this rotten spell off me." 

"We could try your Mayan Medallion -- it may have magical properties." Phantom suggested. 

"Later." Christine winced. "I'm not anxious to pull that thing out again." 

Phantom sat down on one of the boulders with a concerned expression as Christine removed the glasses and turned them off. They looked at each other across the glade in the trees, under the dark night. In Phantom's arms was a bag of fruit. 

"Is this stolen?' Christine inquired. 

"Well, yes." Phantom apologized. "I did not want you to waste your own funds on something as daily as our meals. You must learn to live without money, Christine." 

Christine muttered something about the difference between living off the land and outright theft, but was not in a keen enough a mood to speak aloud. Instead she simply sighed, selected a cantaloupe, and cut it into four or five slices with a swipe of her talons. She munched on the fruit absently for a few moments before suddenly losing interest and tossing it aside. 

"It doesn't taste the same." she muttered with disgust. "I can taste it, but not like I remember. It's almost as if I can't taste anything the same way anymore." 

Phantom sighed, and only nodded. Christine had noticed this problem with their first meal together. She had eaten a hare raw and fresh because it smelled sweet. It had tasted sweet. However, sweet things from before, like fruit, no longer held any sweetness for her. She knew she had to get used to it, but the ideas were so disconcerting, they hurt to consider. 

Frustrated and angry, Christine stood and turned toward the path through the woods. 

"I'm going to go bathe," she announced. 

She left Phantom to pack away their small magic device as she stormed off through the trees, stripping her clothes as she went. Christine's only fun anymore was time spent swimming in any of the thousands of mountain rivers and lakes in these high Uintah Mountains of Northern Utah, swimming. Phantom never complained, but she suspected he was concerned with allowing her to become acquainted with herself again. Christine couldn't see any need for it. Sure, there were physical differences, but she was still Christine Shelton. 

Wasn't she? 

The shore of the lake was a bit rocky. It was obviously a glacial lake, a basin where a glacier had come down a mountain thousands of years ago, and stopped here leaving all the rocks it had picked up on the way right at the edge of what became a lake. The rocks were usually grey, occasionally white, none more than knee high, and all were large and smooth. 

This was the only time Christine removed her modified mountain climber's outfit. She could wear it swimming easily enough, but she preferred having it dry when she got out. She tied an elastic into her hair, and jumped in. It became tangled, but she was too frustrated to care. Her talon could break it easily. The water had always been icy cold whenever she had come to the lakes before. For some reason the glacial cold was mild and enjoyable. 

She was not any different, she told herself, but it was a lie. 

She felt the difference constantly, and she could not escape the reality of her new shape. Her arms and legs were muscular and thick boned, something they had never been before. Her feet were visibly different, and she could not understand how she managed to walk on her toes. Her claws were one of the three most drastic changes next to her wings and tail. She could still touch and handle things as before, but branches snapped if she grasped them too tight. Her overall size had grown as well, and now her clothes were too tight. 

She had not become fat, just larger in the places a woman should be... like she'd always dreamed of being. Only, now she saw no point to it. It had come at too high a price. Although her shape had grown fuller, rounder; her wings began to weigh upon her back when she took long hikes through the forest on foot. 

How does one get used to having a tail? It seemed to be constantly under her feet but felt uncomfortably odd and revealing to leave it dragging behind her. When she slept the day through as stone, she wrapped it around her legs. 

Yet there was another strange, haunting sensation. Every morning, just when she thought she would get to see the sunrise, she would suddenly be filled with a sensation of heat and fall instantly asleep. When she awoke, she felt trapped in immobility, and cried out as she broke through the stone shell. 

Sometimes she remembered her dreams, but they never woke her any more. In her dreams she always saw herself, human again going out to movies, exploring the Internet, talking to old friends at school, arguing with Mandy; all the things she had always enjoyed. Just as she went somewhere familiar from her old life with a group of people she knew, she would suddenly cry out, as her body began to writhe into that of a gargoyle. Now, as she awoke each evening, she remembered the overwhelming sadness of all she had lost, causing her to begin to cry night after night. 

Swimming, she soon learned, was much the same as gliding or flying. She could feel the movement of air and water, and tell where the current was flowing. She could adjust her wings to match it in the air. It appeared that she had, in fact, two sets of wings. She had never noticed it until Phantom had pointed it out. At first, still shocked by the whole idea of what was happening to her, she had only noticed that she HAD wings and assumed they were like his. Now she knew that she had a larger upper pair with three tiny fingers at their apex. These were the wider ones that caught the air currents. The smaller second pair allowed her to change direction in midflight. She could even glide for a while on her back. Whether in water or air, the feel of gliding was wonderful. The soft, warm sensation of it kissing and caressing her skin was far better than she had ever dreamed it would be. 

Whenever she was in water, her feet gave her little or no forward motion. By lifting her wings above water and catching the wind blowing across the lake, she could use it to outdistance the fish. She almost wished she had been changed into a fish, instead of this. Perhaps a mermaid, to have at least half of herself normal... 

She was only fooling herself. 

There was no way she was ever going to get back what she had lost. She sometimes cursed Phantom for what he had done, being polite to these fairies and agreeing to help them... look what they'd done to her! Half floating in the water, she saw her own reflection for a moment. Her pupils were slits, crescents, as if she were a cat. 

Or a snake. 

Pale cream pink skin, with a touch of ink, and long braids of curly brown hair -- the only remnant of her human self. Her horns curved around her head like a crown. Inside her mouth, her teeth were all jagged and pointed, with two large barbed ones in the front, her serpent's fangs, a gift she'd been forced to keep after her last encounter with the Dark Warrior. They dripped with sweet poison, but Christine swore she would never puts her lips on anything -- to kill it or not. Her body was covered in thick pinkish-white leathery skin that felt like wearing latex stretched over her entire body. Lastly was her tail, the single example of how strange an alien she felt. 

Christine sniffed, helplessly. Why couldn't she be normal again? 

"Christine," she asked herself, "Are you a woman or a gargoyle?" 

Her mind raced through a thousand childhood, adolescent, and adult memories. She WAS human all right! She wanted so badly to be human again. She had NEVER wished to be anything else! 

Hadn't she? 

Stepping out of the water, she could see that every part of her was different. Everything felt different. Everything worked different. She had been altered in a terrible way, changed, violated. She had a woman's shape, but an animal's body, wings, horns, pointed ears, a tail, and the poisonous fangs of a great serpent. She was a monster in the truest sense, trapped inside this body of stone, sweat, and tears. 

A piercing cry, deep within the forest, jolted Christine out of her self-pitying mood. Phantom's cry! Two battle yells followed, loud and clear, neither of which Christine recognized. 

With determination, she leapt from the water, climbed a large dead elm to launch into the air, and sped off toward the sounds of fighting. There were already four winged figures in the air, spinning and slashing at one another. Christine was ready to do something she'd always wanted to do. 

She drew a deep breath, and gave her own, inhuman, screeching battle yell. 

Three of the winged creatures looked up, the fourth swung his fist into the face of his captor in the seconds that he was distracted. 

Phantom. 

Christine dived into the midst of them, wings wide. She coasted for a moment, and caught the wind so that she hovered among them, fists ready. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" She shouted. 

The attackers growled angrily. They were gargoyles, certainly. Two were males, shaped much like Phantom, the third was a reluctant female with three-fingered wings. In the darkness of the night, Christine could not make out their faces. All of them were dark colored. 

The two males dived at her. Christine twitched her upper wings slightly, flipped in the air, and suddenly dived, swooping back and above the attackers. The two who had missed their attack redoubled their course to come at her again. The female came alive, and surprised her, wrapping an arm around her neck from behind. Christine's eyes glowed fiery red with a sensation of burning, in response to her blazing anger. As she turned about, and slashed at the woman. The other males came swooping in. 

Where was Phantom? Christine had no time to wonder over him now. She struggled to break the female's grip before the other could touch her... but was already too late. One of the males brought down his enormous iron mace down on Christine's brow. Her body lurched as something in her face broke. She became limp, the female released her, and Christine fell down into the canopy of trees below. 

  
  


* * *

Shakespeare cautiously tested the warmth of the broth to be sure it would not burn her tongue, before he touched the spoon to her lips. Her face began to come to life, and she licked sipped at the spoon greedily. Shakespeare let her drink the contents of the entire bowl. When she had finished, she relaxed onto the sheets again, almost dreamily. 

Then she stirred slightly, like a girl wanting to stay in bed in the morning, moaning slightly. Her eyes opened, and swept the room. It was a humble home, filled with various nick-knacks, cultural artifacts, and photographs. The man spooning chicken broth to her appeared to be nothing but a boy, a human boy barely starting to live his third decade of life. The injured gargoyle was covered in blankets, thick woolen quilts which tickled against her skin... 

She gasped, and pulled the quilt close to her neck. It was the only thing she was wearing! 

Shakespeare smiled slightly, but continued to spoon the broth from the pan into the bowl, and to her lips. "Not too suddenl', now. I'm afraid you might be somewha' weak yet, lass." He had a thick Irish accent. 

Like a small child, she gratefully accepted the spooned liquid. In between she took long breaths, trying to speak. 

"Where... am I?" 

"In m' cabin, so don't worry about anyone tryin' to hurt you. My name's Shakespeare." 

"Hurt me?" 

"You talk in you sleep, lass." Shakespeare noted with a smile. 

"Who are you, Shakespeare?" 

"I'm no one to be trifled with. Just stay calm, and you'll soon be free and on your way. You took a nasty blow to the face -- tore you up pretty good, it did. Seems to me you survived a nasty fall!" 

Christine was anxious to try and sit up, but doing so caused a splitting pain in the ribs and chest, over her heart. 

"Don't move, I tell ya!" Shakespeare cautioned. He touched the woman's chest over her heart on the quilt. "You've got a bone right here that runs down the middle of your chest, called yer Keel bone. Your wing attaches to it like so, and it allows ya to glide. Seems you cracked it when you hit the ground. It's gonna hurt like the dickens for a few days, but it'll knit itself in while you sleep today. Yer kind are remarkable healers, know that? Why - when I brought you here yesterday morning after I found you in the woods, I didn't know you'd wake up from your stone sleep this close to good as new. There ain'a mark on yer pretty l'l face, dearie. Judgin' by how you looked yesterday evenin', I didn't think you were gonna make it!" 

"You're familiar with my kind?" 

"I may not be a sorcerer or an occultist lass - but I watch the news. There's alotta talk you killed a girl. Nobody seems to notice how much you and she look alike though, dearie. Living the life of a hunted girl must be more trouble than it's worth... especially if you're guilty of killing yourself! So, why don't you tell me who you are, eh?" 

The gargoyle woman nodded her head gently. "I... I don't know..." 

"Say again?" Shakespeare asked, his face concerned. 

"I don't remember... anything... I don't even remember who I am..." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


When Phantom reemerged, the enemy thought the battle was over, and was searching the glade on foot. Phantom glided in and stood behind them with Christine's clothes, gear, and bow in hand, which he had picked up by the lake. He took the enemy gargoyles all by surprise. "Hold it!" he announced firmly, and leveled the bow at them. 

"Who are you?" the taller male demanded. Phantom tightened his bow string, and he backed down. The three stood before him. 

"I'm the one who's telling you to stop. Now DO IT!" he ordered. They all gathered in the center of the glade. 

"Now," Phantom began to deduce, "since you did, you obviously know what a compound bow is." 

"Well, du." said the smaller male. 

"Yeah, duuuuu." echoed the female smartly. 

"And the attitude of humans." Phantom added. They grumbled a little, as though that came a bit close to the mark. "NAMES!" Phantom demanded. 

"Larry." The older male said, nudging the second. 

"Curly." The younger male laughed. 

"Mo." The female concluded, also laughing. 

"Do NOT vex me!" Phantom's arrow struck the tree just a few inches to the left of the female's head. She jumped back, shivering. The laughter was immediately quiet. Phantom already had a second arrow nocked and drawn. 

"Either you watch that picture-box too much, or you are all humans. Because you did not say you had no names as normal gargoyles do, you obviously know nothing of gargoyles." 

The three shifted uncomfortably. 

"I see I am correct, thank you for confirming it clearly." Phantom observed. "Who are you working for?" 

"We're not working for nobody." the younger male piped up, and came rushing at Phantom. The older one tried to stop him, but it was too late. Phantom's arrow struck the younger male in the chest, who leaned forward and collapsed onto the ground. 

"Don't think I'm stupid. I have no love for humans, and I saw what you did to my companion. We are on a quest, and the possibility that you may be working for the Dark Warrior is reason alone for me to kill you two. However, my companion does not like killing, and I would not show her anymore corpses than I must. Be warned, I have no fear of killing either of you." 

"MY SON!" the female cried out in horror. 

The other looked down at his fallen companion, his eyes glowing. "You murderous beast..." the female began. The creak of Christine's bow stopped her. 

With the arrow still on the nock, he placed his claw over the bow, so that he could hold the arrow while it was still pulled back, with one claw. With the other he retrieved Christine's magical device from a nearby rock. He put on the glasses, and turned it on. 

The two gargoyles tried to quietly move away, but when Phantom's arrow was pointed back at them, they knew he could still see them. They had little doubt his aim would be precise. 

"You are wise not to try to escape." Phantom noted. He examined the body of the fallen gargoyle. "The spells are degrading." 

"What?" the male demanded. 

"The spells binding your friend are escaping back into nature, since he is no longer alive. Being dead tends to release a spell's grasp -- a part of the nature of magic." Phantom observed, checking often on his two prisoners. "The pattern was hexagonal shaped, but interspersed in odd patterns." 

"Meaning?" the female inquired, one paw tipped to the side. 

"I'm not sure, but the intensity is very high powered. I know that the less orderly and perfect a spell is, the less evil is in it. Good spells are closer to nature. However, this pattern is very tight, and very orderly." Phantom looked at his captives. "I would guess you were all transformed from humans, by a creature of evil." 

"You will get nothing out of us, and nothing from killing us." the remaining male sneered angrily under the point of Christine's bow. 

"Is not personal satisfaction something?" 

"Look, BUD, We were told you two murdered Christine Shelton back in Salt Lake City. He said the police could never find justice for this crime, and he promised we could bring justice to the Shelton's. We accepted his offer." 

Phantom nodded. The evil one was playing the same game their own side had. "You do realize that he never planned on changing you back?" Phantom noted. "He loves to play around with metamorphosis. My companion is proof they never intend to return you humans to your proper forms, but keep you in these so that you will always rely on them." 

They shifted uncomfortably. 

Phantom sighed, lowering the bow. "Very well then. If you enjoy being gargoyles, you may. I will not try to convince you." 

"What do you mean? You're just going to let us go?" 

"We didn't kill Christine Shelton. That woman you slashed down into the trees IS Christine Shelton - she was enlisted in the same way you were enlisted. It seems they enjoy playing a game of... (what did she call it?...) catfish?" 

"Copy cats." the female corrected. Phantom nodded, and began to gather all the gear and the magic device into Christine's bag. He took the bag and the bow, and began to walk toward the lake, near where Christine had fallen. "Hey! Wait, don't leave, mister!" The female leaned down by the side of the third, fallen male. 

Phantom turned around. "You do not wish to face the judgement of the man who owns you two?" 

"We are not owned by anyone!" the male corrected. 

"Really? How strange. We are Warriors of Light, and we are owned by three women." Phantom almost snarled, "You are fighting for warriors of dark, are you not owned by the Dark Warrior?" 

"You mean when we agreed to this..." 

"You gave yourself up to the evil side. I am just glad WE agreed to the right side." Phantom sighed, mostly to himself. The alien two glanced at each other, uncertainly. Phantom walked away again. 

The others followed. "Hey! How do we speak to these three women?" 

  
  


  
  


She was not in the trees where she had crashed. The broken branches were here. The two volunteered to search with one of the flashlights from Christine's bag. Phantom mentally noted these transformed humans were not used to trying to see much in the dark. Phantom began to search with the scanning magical device. 

"Is that a night-scope?" the male inquired. 

"What is that?" Phantom returned. 

"Well, it's a device that uses heat to let you see in the dark." 

Phantom nodded with comprehension. "Ahh. This device is similar, only it uses magic. HERE!" Phantom explained. 

On the ground, the scanner was seeing a small pool of an odd assortment of red dots. The other male tested it with his fingers. It was warm, bright crimson, and sticky to the touch. 

"Fresh blood." he announced. 

"HER blood." Phantom corrected. 

"So... where is she?" the female asked. 

Phantom followed a small trail in the grass. "What are you seeing?" the other male inquired. 

"Tracks. A human... carried her away." Phantom thought aloud. 

"Any magic?" the female inquired. 

"Yes..." Phantom observed, "Dark magic." 

  
  


  
  


Days and nights had passed. 

The gargoyle girl had managed to make some sense out of her hair. She stood before the mirror in the cabin, fiddling with a much overused brush with an old wooden handle. 

She couldn't understand why her hair was so curly. 

"You're sure gargoyles don't have naturally curly hair?" she inquired of her host, who bustled about in the next room doing unremarkable things with kitchen utensils. Things were scattered all over the split wood floor. The house was filled with strong odors. 

"You're the first I've e'er met." he replied, loudly so that she could hear. 

"Why do you call yourself Shakespeare?" 

"Well, it's sort 'a pet name an old buddy gave me back in college. I really dinna have the heart to drop the name, I liked it so much." 

"Why do you like it?" 

"I dunno, ma'am. Makes me laugh, I s'pose." Shakespeare lied. 

She emerged from the bathroom, dressed in tanned deer leathers, laced around the edges and up the back with dark leather strips, and without sleeves. The skirt was shorter than she would have liked, but she did not feel it mattered -- at least it fit. She settled her wings lightly down around her shoulders. Her tail came right out the split in the back of the skirt. She loved the loose, open feel of it. It allowed her to move freely. She bowed before him in it. 

"How do I look?" 

"Like an indian with wings and a tail." he noted without turning around. "One of my better jobs, I'd have to say. Go ahead and sit yerself down for a minute." he dried his hands on a towel, and turned to face her. "Sleep well today?" 

"I dreamt again." 

"You don' say?" 

"I remember the forest and the fruit, and the man. I recognized him this time. I knew his face. I must know him from somewhere." 

"Tell me what you know about him." 

"Moderately tall with black hair -- human looking." 

"Dreaming about a human man, are ya miss?" 

"I don't think I means that, exactly." 

He snickered good-naturedly. "Do you remember much else?" 

"Not from the dream, but I think I remember a little of who I am." 

"Really? What do you remember?" 

"I was standing on the top of a stone wall, and I jumped off... I spread my wings... and I started to fall... another caught me..." 

"What did this other look like? Do you recall?" 

"He was... very dark... ebony, almost black." 

"Ah, black all over, a bit glossy, tall, strong build gargoyle?" 

"Yes, that's him. He put his arm under me and caught me." 

"Probably a memory of your first attempt to glide, dear. Mac's told me many times how he used to love teaching the hatchlings to glide." 

"Oh, you know this gargoyle?" 

"Mac? First gargoyle I ever met." he lied again. "Fatherly sort -- no wonder you'd remember him. I had a dickens of a time finding the rest of you." 

"There were others... blue... white... red... all gliding or standing at the wall of the castle." 

"Your clan probably." 

"My clan?" 

"It sounds like your remembering your youthful clan. Did you see any others your age?" 

"Yes... a female... my size -- she stood near me before I jumped off." 

"Dark ash color, deep grey?" 

"Yes..." 

"That would be Liz. Both she and Mac stop by now and then. What else do you remember?" 

"After he caught me, I was back on the wall. There were gargoyles all around me, some were watching the small ones... like me. My elders?" 

"I'd say so, lass." 

"There were... three ladies there, helping the hatchlings fly... I asked them to help me... and I..." 

"What?" 

The woman shuddered, as though the memory made her very uncomfortable. "They touched me,... and I turned into a human! I was so frightened, I ran, and jumped off the balustrade..." 

She clasped her face in her paws, shaking her head. 

"That was certainly a very strange memory. Sounded more like a nightmare. Are you sure you're remembering clearly?" 

"No... nothing's clear... it's just a blur of images. I... I can't remember." 

"That's alright." Shakespeare consoled her. "Come have something to eat, and when the moon's up, we can go look for Mac and Liz." 

She nodded, shaken still. 

  
  


  
  


"I'm only speculating at this, but if Christine were here, I'd think she'd agree that even the tightest woven spell can be broken. However, I'm hesitant to just point the beam at you." Phantom muttered. 

"Why?" The male gargoyle he was examining with the magic scanner felt like Phantom was paying no attention to him at all. 

"Christine turned a rock to dust with it." 

"Ahh." he nodded. "Look, how long is this going to take?" 

"You don't have to sit there." Phantom nodded. "However, with a wider spread, I could try to bend it somewhat." 

"Can't you find just a single part of the spell that controls it, and break that?" 

Phantom nodded. "All the patterns of force are equal -- that's the way most evil spells are." Phantom took the glasses off, and sat back against the rock. "Look, Christine's the brilliant one. She's the one I need if I'm going to try and break the spell." 

"Just how does that thing see magic?" 

"It doesn't... the ring does. I gave it to her. She just found a way to make it put what the ring sees... onto these glasses." Phantom stuttered. 

The other male reached over and touched the ring set in the device. 

It sparked. The dark gargoyle stepped back, startled. "That answers that question." 

Phantom stood up, and began to pace the clearing. "Where is she?!!!" 

"Christine?" the female inquired. 

"Yes. We've been following the trail for two days, and it's done nothing but go in circles." he complained. 

"Oh will you stop doing that, it's getting old." she replied. 

"Why is it I have the feeling we're about to find out?" said the other male, pointing to shadows approaching from the south. With a slip of a moon rising overhead, the three could see that two figures were coming closer, and one had wings and a tail. 

"Christine?" Phantom asked, a touch of hope in his voice. 

"Shakespeare?" the male muttered with curiosity. The three stood side by side, facing the oncomers. 

Suddenly, the gargoyle coming towards them paused. "Macaren!" came her voice. She rushed forward and embraced the dark male. 

"Mal?" he asked with surprise. They embraced for a few moments, and then drew apart to look at one another. "Malcora? Is it really you? This is incredible!" 

The female's expression was puzzled. "You know her, Mac?" 

"Christine?" Phantom inquired. 

The white female blinked at the name. "Who?" 

"Christine, you know me! Phantom?" he explained with exasperation. 

She shook her head. "I don't know you. My name is Malcora - Macaren and Lisonja are my rookery brother and sister." 

The dark female suddenly straightened, as though shocked The sound of the name caused a change in her. She lightened and said, "Malcora! Of course, now I remember! The pale little girl who used to stand next to me when I was a hatchling!" 

"Yes, the little one, I remember." Macaren reminisced. "You aren't much older... just the same I'd say." 

"I'm sorry," the white one apologized, "I don't remember very much. I lost my memory a day or two ago, and it has been slow in returning." 

Phantom's thoughts were reeling. If she wasn't Christine, who was she? He took up the scanner, and looked at her with it. There was that telltale pattern of small red dots of various sizes forming a pattern of force on her skin. It was Christine! He tore the glasses off. 

"Who is Malcora?" Phantom countered, speculatively. 

"One of the eggs born in my rookery, so was Lisonja." Macaren said. "Malcora was the best little apprentice the Mages ever had." 

"When was this?" 

Macaren blinked. "I don't know." 

"Three hundred years ago, at a castle on an Island offshore of England, called the Isle of Man." Lisonja stated. Macaren blinked for a moment. Phantom could detect no trace in their words, yet it appeared as if Lisonja had realized that only just now. 

"Oh yes, of course!" 

Phantom watched them very carefully. "Who are her parents?" 

"All children belong to the entire clan." Lisonja said. 

"That is the gargoyle way." Macaren added. 

"If you follow the traditions of the gargoyles, then why do have names?" 

Lisonja and Macaren looked at each other. "I... I don't know." 

Phantom turned to Christine's companion. "And you are?" 

"Shakespeare." 

"What do you do?" 

"I work for Macaren, Lisonja, and Malcora." he replied. 

"What are you?" 

He laughed. "Human of course, laddie. I should think that was obvious." 

Phantom put the display back on. Phantom was nearly blinded by the white light the display radiated from the silhouette of Shakespeare. "Ha!" Phantom snorted, "I've never seen a human like you before. You're almost made of the stuff..." Phantom's mind suddenly made a connection. "YOU ARE ONE OF THE FAY FOLK!" Phantom exclaimed, taking an involuntary step backward. 

Shakespeare glowered at him angrily. 

"A fay who lies is no good fay." Phantom muttered to himself, turning to go pick up Christine's backpack. 

"You had better believe that." Shakespeare growled. A crackle of energy filled the forest, as Phantom groaned and collapsed. The other three looked on in fear. 

  
  


* * *

"What else do you see?" Shakespeare inquired, coaxingly. Christine's eyelids fluttered, entranced. 

"People... humans... surrounding me..." 

"What are they doing?" 

"They... they have tied me. They are forcing me to follow them." 

Shakespeare smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere. Go on." 

"I... I'm being tied to a large wood pole in the earth. My wings are tied... my wrists are chained I think... I'm too little, I can't break them..." 

"This might still be a very recent memory. You were pretty weak after being imprisoned for so long, before the spell was cast." Macaren observed. 

"Go on." Shakespeare instructed. 

"There is a man before me, he is piling kindling around me... he's lighting it on fire!" 

"The execution..." Lisonja breathed. "It's been in my nightmares for years..." 

"Go on." Shakespeare coaxed. 

"I'm go to be burned alive!!!..." she uttered in desperation. "Help me!!!" 

"Stop and try and remember what happened." 

Christine writhed in bed for a moment. Lisonja and Macaren held hands, hopefully. Suddenly, Christine stopped, and gasped. 

"You!" 

"Me?" Shakespeare asked. 

"I see you. You... cast a spell on me... I turned to stone - at night!" 

"I don't remember that." Macaren observed. 

"What next?" 

Christine's eyes opened. "There's nothing more." 

"Don't worry, we'll keep working on it later." 

"Shakespeare..." Macaren nodded. 

"Yes, gargoyle?" 

"Why don't I remember any of this?" 

"I don't know. Malcora's sense of general knowledge is perfect, but she simply doesn't remember her own identity." 

"Sounds like a spell to me." Lisonja added, suspiciously. 

"Me as well." Shakespeare agreed. "For some reason, there is another spell on you all I cannot find, which is inhibiting your memory. When I awakened each of you from stone the other day, Malcora went wild and escaped. That was why I had you go and bring her back. She was talking all sorts of nonsense." 

Shakespeare walked into another room. Lisonja looked deeply into Christine's eyes. They were unmoving, staring at nothing. She whispered to Macaren. "Then why do I remember being a human?" 

"Shhh!" Macaren hissed, whispering. "I know... I remember having two separate youths. How was I supposed to know one was false?" 

"How do we know which one was false?" Lisonja observed. 

"You can't know..." Christine whispered. 

Macaren and Lisonja leaned over to her. Her eyes were still entranced, but she could move her lips. "What was that?" 

"You can't know... which is true... only believe..." 

"Very true, Malcora." Shakespeare noted. 

Macaren and Lisonja sighed, and returned to their seats, having been overheard. 

"Then you wouldn't mind explaining why we're having two sets of memories, and why we can't remember parts of one?" 

Shakespeare nodded. "Something's happened, I think, from while you were in stone hibernation for the last three hundred years. It's even possible you assumed the lives of humans, in spirit, in the meantime. When I was finally able to awaken you all, none of you remembered what I had done for you. At last, Malcora is beginning to remember how I saved her." 

Shakespeare placed a small tiara with silver wire eyelets and with rubies set in it, onto Christine's head. The room's occupants could feel magic at work. "This should help bring it all back." he encouraged Christine. "I think Malcora 'ere is lucky. She got all that nonsense knocked out of her the other night." 

"Thank you, Shakespeare." she thanked him, sweetly, without a note of sarcasm. 

"Your welcome, lass." he replied, smiling. 

"That other gargoyle was saying she was a human transformed by three women." 

Shakespeare sputtered and laughed uproariously. "Oh Macaren, you're too good! Those three died with the rest of your clan." 

"Who were they?" Lisonja inquired. 

"Malcora's sorceress instructors. She was apprenticed to those three of your rookery sisters, I always helped them out." Shakespeare laughed. 

Macaren and Lisonja nodded, and did not ask any more questions. 

"Now, Malcora, try and remember. Think, what did your mother's face look like?" 

"I... I thought we didn't have single parents?" Lisonja inquired. Shakespeare quickly shushed her with one hand raised in the air. Lisonja reserved herself to wait. 

"Malcora, try and remember..." 

"Too many faces..." she shook her head, eyes closed. "Wait. One sister... older than I... she's red..." 

"Go on..." 

  
  


The Dreamer was in darkness, surrounded by warmth. She was cramped, closed in. She fought, fought to break free! With a great kick of her feet, she brought her tiny paws through the wall closing her in. 

Someone sighed, with awe and excitement. 

The Dreamer pushed again, the piece of the egg broke, and fell away. She kicked her heels through the egg beneath her feet, and the claws on her fetlocks broke through. With a burst of effort, she forced the shell from her. 

Gentle hands reached down, and plucked her out of her shell. She squirmed, uncomfortable at such, hot, sharp touches. A stained cotton cloth was used to wipe away the sticky film which clung to her body. The oil in it stung her newborn's skin. 

She drew her first breath, one full of the tangy air of the rookery. The sharp scent of the others around her, the touches against her flesh filled her mind. She could neither see nor hear them, but somehow she knew she would with time. 

The touch of the red one was always with her. She knew her scent by memory, it was familiar to her. She remembered her twin, long, and spiked horns, graceful double wings, bouncy, blond, and curly hair, and her soft, beautiful voice. She meant safety and bliss. When she hungered, she was fed. When she was tired, she slept in large, powerful arms. When she was upset, a soft song was sung, lilting melodies which soothed every ache away. 

"Malcora... my little Malcora." 

The great red one's heart was saddened. Dark shaped figures bore down on the Dreamer and great red one. The red one held the Dreamer closer. Would the dark shapes harm her? They knew no love. The Dreamer began to fuss, and the great one sang. 
    
    
    
    
    Sweet daughter do not cry
    
    
    We are here with you
    
    
    this night.
    
    
    Stay here close beside me
    
    
    let no anger reach your heart
    
    
    tonight.
    
    
    Fill your wings with my breath
    
    
    let us glide together
    
    
    and I shall never let you go.
    
    
    Though the battle may rage
    
    
    from dusk until dawn
    
    
    Eternally by my heart
    
    
    I shall hold thee close.
    

  
  


Malcora smiled. "That worked, Shakespeare. For a moment I remembered her -- clear as day. She was singing to me." 

Shakespeare smiled. "Wonderful, lass! If you will say so, I can help you remember it all, now. Tell me you want it, ask me for it, and I'll give it to you." 

"I want you to help me remember it all, Shakespeare. Please do it." 

Shakespeare smiled. "With pleasure." 

Macaren and Lisonja shifted for a moment in their seats -- as though a chill or draft had suddenly affected the temperature of the room. There almost seemed to be an invisible rush of energy, like the invisible torrent of a great flood, a gathering of force in Malcora's mind. 

"It is done." Shakespeare said. 

  
  


The Dreamer glided through the open air pathways running down the cleared trails of the forest. In her paw she grasped the human's mace. She laughed, and caught onto a tree branch. The human shouted playfully from the floor of the ravine. 

"Come, Malcora. I need that." 

"Catch me first!" she shouted gleefully, climbing the tree with one hand. 

The human's face was saddened. "Oh, Malcora. I wish I could. I am what I am, though." 

The Dreamer's heart fell. She realized she had gone too far this time. She spread her double wings, and descended to the ground. "I'm sorry, Joseph." she apologized. She gave the man back his tool. 

He knelt before the pinkish white figure kneeling at his feet. "Truly, Malcora, you meant well." he encouraged her. She stood, drawing herself up to his height. "You are so beautiful and kind, Malcora. I would give anything not to leave you tonight." 

"Must you go?" she begged him. 

"I must. If there were some way, believe me..." 

The Dreamer's head fell, and tears began to well up. She clasped her face in her paws. "They don't like me, do they, Joseph?" 

"Please don't be sad, Malcora. I will always come for you. I love you, Malcora." Malcora embraced him. "I love you so much, Joseph. I wish could give you something before you go." 

"My only wish is to be able to stay here with you, rather than go off an fight your kind any more." 

"My people will never survive. If you go, my clan will be utterly defenseless during the day." she wept. 

"I wish I could stay with you, Malcora. I would do anything to stay." Joseph answered, sighing. 

The Dreamer raised one paw near him, as she had been instructed. 

"To all the star of the morning, noon, and dusk -- I call upon your might. For the wisdom and strength you give, now reverse to the kindness and strength given back." she recited, from memory. 

There was a glow of light which surrounded Joseph -- did he cry out? His shape and form changed, as the spell she had cast transformed him into a gargoyle. 

She embraced him again, and the spell finished it's work. Joseph's breath was deep, so was his voice. 

"Malcora?" 

"I'm sorry Joseph..." she apologized. 

"What have you done to me?!!!" he demanded. "What witchery have you wrought upon me?!!! Aaaarrrgggghhhh!" 

Joseph grabbed Malcora, the smaller, by the shoulders, and threw her against the tree. 

"You were supposed to be gullible! I was supposed to use you to get at your king! Bah! Now look what you've done to me!" 

Malcora picked herself up from the forest floor. A powerful, dark, menacing white form bore down upon her. "Oh, stars. What have I done?" she whispered. 

He hit her, and blood began to seep from the flesh near the edge of her horns. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU LITTLE WITCH?!!!" Joseph bellowed. 

A single cry, a battle cry, echoed throughout the glade. The ashen shape of her shoulder-companion barreled through the tree boles, and knocked the great creature over. Quickly as wildfire, the Dreamer scampered to her feet and ran through the woods, her shoulder-friend beside her. "Now!" her ashen colored companion barked, and they took to the wing. Joseph, unfamiliar with the air, could only yell from behind them. 

The Dreamer leaned on Lisonja, and wept again. Lisonja, though young still, felt her pain, and gently stroked the Dreamer's brown curls with her talons. 

  
  


She was barred up tightly, her wrists locked securely together behind her, and chained to the wall. Her ankles were bound together by chains, so all she could do was roll around in the rotten stink of the hay in the dungeon. Rats crawled past her, hissing at her. She was left with nothing else but to hiss back at them. 

The tortuous work of the jury assigned to find her guilty of Sir Joseph's metamorphosis had begun to take it's toll. She was starved, and becoming ill. She would hear her sentence on the morrow, and she awaited her death. 

"Will she be of any use to us like this, sisters?" 

"This is not our doing." 

"Nay, but she is the cause for which time has gone wrong." 

"Someday this one must stop him." 

"This future is not what Lord Oberon commanded us." 

"History cannot be changed." 

"How may we overthrow the mortals if she lives like this?" 

"It may be done -- but not in this time." 

"She hath only to agree." 

"Aye, sisters." 

The Dreamer recognized the contemplative voice of the sisters. She looked at her three sisters with longing. "Sisters? Mentors? Have you come to set me free?" 

"You allowed feeling to cloud judgement." 

"Such is not a proper use of your power, little one." 

"It must be put right." 

"I am sorry." the Dreamer apologized, her hope failing quickly. The three sisters had left. 

  
  


Malcora was again crying on Lisonja's shoulder. "What is it? What is wrong?" 

"I remember..." she said. 

"What do you remember?" Macaren asked, hopefully. Shakespeare was quiet and still. 

"I am Malcora, daughter of Tutela. Lisonja -- you are my shoulder-friend. You loved Macaren, then. I was being executed, and Shakespeare... saved me." 

"No thanks necessary, my lady." Shakespeare said. "You've already done enough for me." 

  
  


* * *

Phantom couldn't puzzle it out. Something had happened to Christine, for sure. There were new patterns of magic on top of the older magic spells on her, indicating something magical had been occurring. 

Lost her memory? What could that implicate? What did those two humans-turned-gargoyles have to do with this? Somehow, that fay had a lot to do with it. 

"It has been so long, Malcora. I still remember the day you hatched..." Macaren thought dreamily, "you stuck your head through first, then began to clawed the shell away. I swore it had addled your brains. Perhaps I was right, see?" 

Malcora laughed. "Perhaps it did, I can't tell. I remember it differently. I'm so confused..." 

"You remember me?" Lisonja inquired. "From where?" 

"The castle in England... what was it called? It was so long ago..." 

"Yes," Macaren confirmed, "you two were always together it seemed, I could never keep you two apart!" he laughed. 

"Aye. So many midnight raids on the pantry..." Malcora giggled. 

For a moment Lisonja stared blankly at them, but after a few moments her eyes lightened. "Oh... I remember... yes, you hated it when we went off exploring together..." 

Phantom sighed. It didn't take any newly made magic sensor for him to see that there was something magical going on here. He felt uncomfortable like this, spying, looking in through the window on them, with Christine on the inside. He'd told Christine before that he watched her, did she not remember? Listening to her speak with ease to the flat nosed black Macaren, and the small ashen colored Lisonja, Phantom guessed she remembered nothing. 

"Quite an attractive group, aren't they my friend?" Shakespeare inquired. His voice was quiet, and right next to Phantom's ear. He slowly turned to find the fay in the human disguise kneeling next to Phantom by the window. 

"They do not belong together." Phantom noted. 

"Oh, but they do lad." Shakespeare explained. "You see, she doesn't remember you, Obscurmalo, the Weird Sisters, or her human life." 

"Playing with her mind will not change the truth." Phantom conjectured. 

"But I have not done anything to her mind. I simply helped her remember things that really happened." 

"For your own purposes. You are still tampering with her thoughts." 

"No, I am not!" he countered. "Those things happened exactly as she remembers them. Her mind is protected by the Weird Sisters, and I cannot tamper with it. So," he gloated, "I have the power to change time and the past, so I took the soul of the Christine you knew when she conceived inside her mother, and the human Christine Shelton died. I used my power to place her within the doomed fetus inside of a gargoyle mother from three hundred years ago, causing her to be born as the gargoyle she is now. She will stay this way now, for eternity if necessary." 

"You... changed history? That's impossible!" 

"A simple thing for my kind." 

"...against Oberon's law of non-interference. History cannot be changed!" 

"Stupid creature, what do you think this war is about? We won't follow Oberon's law, and will do with the mortals, such as Christine and yourself, as we please. By my changing her past, her family and friends no longer know her. Her mind will choose to lock onto the new life I've given her. It will make her forget those accursed sisters for us." 

"But you are coaxing her to remember things that are wrong." 

Shakespeare laughed. "But they are not wrong. They are the new truth, and her mind will block out the rest. She rejected you, and will follow my creations now, wherever I lead them. I cannot do much with you, but you are well advised to leave us... quickly." 

Phantom began to consider his options. He could feel Christine's backpack over his shoulder -- the scanner right on top. If only he could get to it... "I think not. I am not allowed to leave without her." 

"No! You will leave! Your blood is born gargoyle, I cannot have you interfering with our plans. The child of Christine Shelton must be human! That is the only way to prevent those wicked Seelie from spoiling our plans! Get out of here NOW, or I WILL kill you!" Shakespeare threatened. He began to raise his arms at Phantom. 

"Her child? What about a child?" Phantom asked with alarm. 

"Mark my words, gargoyle. Christine Shelton will one day bear a child. That child's birth will decide the battle between Oberon and Obscurmalo. If the child is human, we are victorious! However, if she follows your path, her child will be a gargoyle, and Oberon will win over us. We will kill Christine Shelton if that will stop this!" 

"But why make her think she's a gargoyle?!!!" Phantom demanded. 

"Because she is not! She has two lives now. The first was before where she was human. If she conceives by my creations, then I will change her back as she was -- into a human, and thus shall her child be! Purely human, and Obscurmalo will have won a decisive victory." 

"If that's your battle plan, why are you telling me?" 

"BECAUSE I AM NOW GOING TO KILL YOU!!!" Shakespeare yelled. The faces in the window seemed not to hear. Phantom fingered the device under the cover of the bag. 

"You know," Phantom said, appearing to note it idly. "I don't think Shakespeare is your real name..." 

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHH!" Shakespeare growled. His shape began to shimmer, and change. A wave of tremendous heat hit Phantom, and he fell backwards. 

A large creature, scaled with emerald and sapphires, diamond eyes, and crystal claws, formed before Phantom. Inside it's belly an inferno of heat radiated. 

A crystal dragon. 

Phantom's thoughts wheeled. He'd learned of such beast in his rookery days, but nothing about defeating them. Yet, Phantom reasoned, it was not real, it was a fay in another disguise. 

"I WILL HAVE MY PAYBACK FROM CHRISTINE. SHE WILL REPAY ME FOR ALL I DID FOR HER IN THIS WORLD!!!" He bellowed. 

"We shall see about that!" Phantom yelled defiantly. 

"You wish to defy this?!!!" the monster returned. He reached out with one of his claws, preparing to slash at the gargoyle sprawled out across the ground under the night. 

Phantom found the switch, and placed the glasses on his eyes. The singular beam intercepted the enormous mass of brilliant magical energy in the display, blowing it away like sand from a high pressure garden hose. 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" it bellowed in agony. "Noooooooooooo! It isn't possible! Stop! Please! Aaaauuuuugh!" 

"Shrivel and rot, fay." Phantom sneered angrily. "This is for changing Christine's life without her consent." 

"Hah, fool! (Ooooooooooooooooh...) That is the beauty of it... (Ooooooooooooooooh...) She asked me too..." Shakespeare moaned in agony. 

Slowly the white stream emerging from the ring at the tip of the scanner became visible, and Phantom removed the glasses. Screaming, the creature was enveloped in a white light that radiated in the forest glade near the cabin. The occupants of the cabin saw it, and came rushing outside. 

The stone scales of the beast became transparent, and began to break apart and shatter. Sand began to rain down from the figure, and it writhed and collapsed into nothing but a heap of sand on the forest floor. 

"What have you done?!!!" Christine/Malcora demanded of Phantom. Phantom was carefully turning the scanner off. He was aware something had to be done -- soon -- before Christine learned what he had just learned. How to bring her memory back, though? How? 

Malcora came charging forward, her claws in the air and eyes burning crimson. "What did you do to the one who saved my life?" 

Phantom ducked under her charge, and she landed in a tangle of bushes. He searched for a moment. He could not find a small enough stone, but settled for a large tree limb. He brought it over his head, and growled at Christine with eyes aglow. 

Malcora moved in such a way she expected Phantom to bring the club down on her, but instead Phantom brought it around to the side, and dashed Malcora across the side of her skull. She still needed to learn to protect her head in a fight. Malcora collapsed onto the ground with a grunt. 

Macaren and Lisonja charged forward, eyes aglow. "You monster!" they accused him, "Gargoyles do not harm each other." 

Phantom raised the scanner at them, his talon ready to flip the switch. "I certainly agree. Prepared to see life from the earth's perspective?" 

The two ceased their charge. 

"Phantom?" came Christine's weak and shaky voice. 

"Christine? Are you back with me?" 

"Yes..." she muttered, propping herself onto her elbows, standing, and flaying her wings behind her. She rubbed the side of her head for a moment, and then approached Phantom. 

Christine slapped Phantom, hard, on the cheek, with the back of her paw. "That REALLY hurt, Phantom." 

"What is your name?" Phantom asked, not shaken by her strike. 

"Christine Patya Shelton, and you are going to be really sorry you hit me so hard." 

Phantom dropped the tree limb. "I apologize human, but when you understand all of the circumstances, I believe you will agree I needed to help you jog your memory." 

"It still smarts... you overgrown beast." she muttered. She turned to the other two dark colored gargoyles. Their eyes had returned to normal, and the were watching Christine with open mouths. 

"Don't look at me that way. I didn't remember." she objected. "Look, I remember everything... the castle, mother, the two of you, Sir Joseph, Shakespeare... but that's not who I am." 

"Yes you are." Phantom countered. "You were a gargoyle before you ever were human." 

"What?!!!" 

"Shakespeare couldn't put things in your mind because those... Weird Sisters were protecting you. So he changed your life instead. He changed you so that you were born to a gargoyle mother, and grew up in that life." 

"Then the life I remember as a human is..." 

"A lie." Phantom concluded. "I'm sorry, but he said you agreed to let him change your life." 

Christine bit her lip. "That's right, I did. I didn't know all of what it meant, though." 

"Fay are seldom blunt and forthcoming." Phantom noted. 

"So Mandy, and my folks, and GT...?" 

"Never knew you." Phantom answered. He thought he might be being too blunt, but it seemed like Christine wanted it. She sighed. "I'm confused also - I thought time was immutable." 

"It's like a curse, to remember something that isn't true." Christine said. "Perhaps it would have been better if you hadn't made me remember." 

  
  


  
  


"Then was the small boy Phantom killed one of my clan, also?" Christine inquired. The Weird Sisters glanced at each other, as if deciding the best way to explain something to a small child. 

"No, the small male was not." 

"You are mortal, Christine Shelton, and may not understand..." 

"History cannot be changed" 

"You bear the memory of two lives..." 

"...a painful thing to bear..." 

"Yes." Christine answered. "It is. Is there nothing we can do to sort these things out? To help my... mortal mind understand them?" 

"Mortal, the things in your mind are more than your mind is capable to hold. What must be done is that a balance be struck between both time`s. You are now two people who exist as a single one." 

"A paradox." 

"Without us, your mind would collapse." 

"How can we strike that balance?" Christine inquired. 

"We fear your mortal mind incapable of such mastery at this time. For now, we shall help you grow and learn to handle both worlds in your mind at once." 

"There will be times in which you will remember only Malcora, and not Christine at all. Others, you may not even remember Malcora's name." 

"This is how your mind will grow, and learn all these things." 

"Very well. I am your servant." Christine agreed. 

  
  


  
  


"Did you see them?" Phantom inquired Christine. She walked back to the campsite glade dressed in Shakespeare's leathers, with a solemn, peaceful look on her eyes. 

"Yes brother, I did. They answered my hail... this time." Christine said. "Everything is in order. They struck a balance in my mind." 

"Wonderful. How much else did they tell you?" 

"What else do you know, friend?" 

"They said you would decide the battle between them. This may not be the time for it, but I suspect there may be more to it than that. For some reason, Oberon is supporting gargoyles, and wants you as one." 

"Why would he want that?" 

Phantom shifted. He was not going to lie. "He... wants you to bear a gargoyle child." 

Christine leveled him with cool, dark eyes. "I understand. Many disputes between kingdoms were settled that way in my day, friend. If I take your meaning, Oberon wants a gargoyle child, but these dark ones want a human. Why do you suppose that is? Who is the father to be? Will I have a choice?" 

"I've no notion." Phantom answered warily... skirting the edge of the one thing he did not wish to reveal. "But we may soon discover this." Phantom could not tell her what Shakespeare had said. Perhaps she should learn it for herself. Phantom felt confused by the whole thing... a feeling he was certain Christine shared. 

"So many new questions, so few answers. I cannot shake the feeling that someone is lying to us - perhaps several someones. Does that... magical device still function?" she asked. 

"It does." Phantom replied. He looked at Christine under it's glow. He was surprised to see her form no longer radiated the red light of the spell. "The transformation spell is gone. You have a normal pattern of force again." 

"Of course, brother." she noted matter-of-factly, as she gathered her things to leave. "I have always been a gargoyle." 

"Are you feeling alright, Christine?" Phantom inquired with concern. Christine cocked her head to one side, looking at Phantom with a puzzled expression. 

"I know no Christine, my name is Malcora." She shrugged, a motion that reminded Phantom very strongly of the human Christine. "I've never felt better." 


	3. Old Friends?

Edited by:   
Pegasus   
and   
MaryK 
Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
Last revision: February 29, 2000 
Revised by:   
Cinnamon   
and   
Dasha Ariel 

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

AGU historians note: In the timeline of Leva Mevis, this chapter occurs only about a week before our friends the "trio" came along and forcefully whipped away our fay friends from the ranch. The "trio" will, no doubt, do that sometime between chapters 3 and 4. The mirror Sharm gave Allsworth to pass on to her will play a very important role in Leva's stories. Also, Leva's character "Fanny Tarro" never actually appears in this version, although she is mentioned on several occasions. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

  
  


* * *

1996 

  
  


It was a calm night, and gargoyles were merry. They sat around a campfire in typical human style, complete with roasting sticks and marshmallows. Phantom found the small puffy white treats highly annoying -- they stuck to his talons like paste as he struggled to move them from their roasting stick to his mouth. All in all, he was in a rotten mood. 

The whole thing was Macaren and Lisonja's idea. Phantom still felt suspicious of them, but since Christine, or rather Malcora, hung to them like parents, Phantom tolerated his distaste for them and stood his ground. Somehow they managed to get food and supplies with their money -- Phantom was very suspicious as to their methods. Most likely because they were human methods. 

Malcora was acting like a fish out of water. She hadn't recognized anything in her pack, not even her face in her driver's license. She had looked at automobiles and skyscrapers in Denver with awe and wonder as if she'd never seen such wonders in all her life. She was innocent as a child, yet seemed to bear this strange sense of dread about her. She bore a singular hatred against humans that Phantom could little find her motive for. He certainly had reason to dislike the humans, but not to Malcora's degree. She always addressed Phantom as her Elder, and Macaren and Lisonja as her rookery brother and sister. Worst of all, she never answered to the name Christine anymore, and Macaren and Lisonja encouraged her to correct Phantom every time he did not address her as Malcora. 

Malcora and Macaren sat side by side on the dusty ground, worrying over the same roasting stick with more than just idle curiosity. Malcora leaned on Macaren as he held the stick, and occasionally resting her head against his shoulder. 

"No no no, sister. If you leave it up there it will never cook. It is faster near the coals, but you must not get it dirty. That is the challenge." 

"Marshwillow... Marshwili... what are they called again, brother?" 

"Marshmallow." he corrected offhandedly, "we've always had these on camping trips." 

"How is it you know so much about human customs?" Malcora inquired in an awed tone. 

"Oh... we have our ways." Macaren stated. 

"They were human once, Christine." Phantom theorized. 

"Malcora." Lisonja corrected him. "Human? We spent these last three hundred years as stone, just as she." 

"Then..." Phantom said, gesturing to the marshmallows, "explain this. You wouldn't have had any contact with humanity for the last three hundred years, and you seem to know everything about it." 

Malcora sighed deeply, nuzzling into Macaren. "Let's not go back into all that has happened, please." 

Macaren nodded, and pulled the golden toasted marshmallow from the coals. Phantom growled to himself at her stubborn resistance to hear the truth. He suddenly stood up, flared his wings, and began to stomp away towards the woods outside of camp. 

Malcora lifted her head from Macaren's shoulder. "Where do you go, Elder?" 

"I am going nowhere... only going." Phantom muttered to them. 

Malcora laid her head back onto Macaren's shoulder, and sighed with contentment. Phantom snorted with disgust and left. 

He tromped off into the trees, and onto the hill for a few minutes, until he suddenly stopped, leaned against a tree, and began to consider what was happening. 

Macaren and Lisonja were obviously not telling the truth about something. Why couldn't Christine SEE that? Because the other personality had taken control and was not nearly as willing to accept it as Christine herself, that's why. Phantom groaned with disappointment. This was not going well. Why in the world was he going along with Malcora, anyway? It's not like he really needed Macaren and Lisonja to complete their quest. Why did he not just kill Macaren and Lisonja now? Because Christine would not have wanted it, that's why. 

"How goes the war, Phantom?" a cheery little voice asked from the tree above him. 

Phantom was about to look up, but stopped himself. "Ah. Sharm. What are YOU doing here?" 

With a splashdash display of acrobatics, the red headed woman spun in the air to stand before him, hanging a few feet above the ground. "Checking up on Terra's little girl, of course... and you never answered my question." 

"We're not doing too good, Sharm - we're losing. Slowly. 'Terra's little girl' is in comfortable quarters with the enemy. Shakespeare's changed the past, and now her mind is completely lost." 

"Pbt! What?!!! You can't change the past! Believe me, I've tried. Several times. What did Shakespeare say?" Sharm inquired, sneering at the word Shakespeare. 

"He said he had taken the soul of the Christine I knew when she was conceived inside Terra, and the human Christine died." Phantom recited the words Shakespeare had told him. 

"THE NERVE OF THAT... THAT... OH!" Sharm shouted in exasperation as she stomped her foot on absolutely nothing. "HE DID NOTHING OF THE SORT! I DID ALL THAT WORK!" 

"You?" 

"Yes, ME. ...Taking credit for all MY work..." she continued to grumble. 

"He said her family would not know her. He told me Christine had now always been a gargoyle." 

"No, of course not, silly. Do you really believe everything that stupid liar tells you?" 

"Do Mandy and her family still remember her?" 

"Of course! The family was worried sick about her until they pulled her body from that car wreck. They even found gargoyle claw marks in her injuries. As for Mandy, she's been desperately trying to reach Christine by that Cellular Phone!" 

Phantom felt guilty. He'd turned it off to save the battery after he didn't expect to hear from Mandy any longer. 

Sharm sighed. "Okay... what else did he do?" 

"Christine thinks she's some gargoyle named Malcora." 

Sharm grinned. "She is! Didn't you hear what I said about doing all that work?" 

"I think the entire forest heard you." 

Sharm scowled. "No it didn't. I may act careless, but I'm not. No one heard me but you." 

"He also did something to her head so that she doesn't remember who Christine is. She keeps calling me Elder." 

Sharm cocked her head at him. "That's right. Come to think of it, you do look like one of her Elders. Well, this isn't according to plan. Does she always think she's Malcora? Or does she act like Christine still?" 

"She doesn't act like Christine anymore, but the weird sisters said she would switch back and forth." 

"The weird sisters?" Sharm sat Native American style, in the air as usual, "When did they get into this?" 

"At the beginning. They're the ones who changed Christine to a gargoyle." 

"That's not the beginning, my friend. No where close. She already was a gargoyle." 

"When was the beginning?" 

"Chronologically, or in order of events?" 

"There's a difference?" Phantom held his temples, feeling a very LARGE headache coming on. 

"Of course!" Sharm became serious again. Or her equivalent of it. "But this isn't helping. Do you want me to talk to her?" 

"You? How?" 

"How does one normally talk to a gargoyle?" 

Phantom gave up entirely. She was impossible. They all were. 

"What? And you aren't?" 

"Not like you! I at least have some semblance of form! Not just your mindless hysterics!" 

"Mindless hysterics? I at least have fun with what I'm doing." 

"Are you going to talk to her, or not?" 

"Of course I am! It's been a while since I've talked to Malcora. I wonder if she still remembers me." Sharm mused. 

* * *

Phantom returned with nothing new added to his incredible smile. He appeared just as miserable as before. Malcora only glanced up a moment from where she leaned against Macaren when Phantom reappeared. 

Then the other gargoyle stepped into camp. 

Everyone looked up then. 

The new gargoyle was quite tall, yet a little small boned -- even a bit awkward. She had no horns, but even if she did, her blazes of fire red hair covered them. She had two lochs of long straight red hair that fell from her hair, right before her ears, and ran down past her shoulders. She had large green eyes, and her body's skin tone was a light lavender. Her wings were darker colored as they hung low on her shoulders, blue and a normal purple on the edges. The inside of her wings, beneath her shoulders, were lighter blue. She wore a clean white smock, a black belt with a small leather band, and her loincloth reached down to her ankles like a long streamer. She stood in front of them with total attitude of I'm-here-now-so-everybody-pay-attention-to-me! 

"Oh! Who's the new friend, Phantom?" Lisonja inquired with sudden energy. 

"Umm... an old friend. We sort of... ran into each other." Phantom stuttered, and began to introduce the other. "Macaren, Lisonja... Malcora, this is Sharm." 

Macaren, Lisonja, and Malcora blinked at Sharm. "What does your name mean?" Lisonja asked, incredulous. 

"A bundle of trouble." Phantom sighed. 

"HEY! I'll have you know..." Sharm began. Macaren and Malcora stood up, and waved off the impending war of sarcasm. "Well I wasn't going to do any serious damage to him." Sharm objected to having been waved off. 

"Do we know you?" Macaren inquired. 

"She does." Sharm announced, pointed one talon at Malcora. 

Malcora's brows furrowed. "I don't believe so, friend Gargoyle. Are you of the Clann Na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir?" 

Sharm scowled. "No." she said sharply. "You don't remember me?" she asked innocently. 

Malcora shook her head. "I seem to have forgotten a lot of people." 

Sharm threw her paws in the air and turned to Phantom. "The sisters could have, at least, left her memories of me!" 

Phantom glared at her. 

  
  


A tent had been erected nearby. The gargoyles slept during the day in there, with the touch that passers by would know at least someone was there and not to bother them, as opposed to wondering about a bunch of odd statues standing about. Sharm reached down into the tent, found Christine's bag, and pulled out her cellular phone. She pressed the battery into place like she were someone who used the things a great deal, and pressed the redial button. 

It dialed, and Sharm tossed her flaming red hair from her eyes and put the phone to her ear, nodding occasionally as she spoke. 

"Hello? Mandy? ... Yes, this is one of the gargoyles. ... Yes, Christine's right here. ... She's afraid you've forgotten all about her. ... Oh, don't blame her, Phantom was told it by this creepy relative of mine -- real jerk -- can't believe a word he says-... Me? Oh, I'm Sharm, one of Christine's very old friends. ... She doesn't have any old friends? My goodness, dear, there is much about her you've yet to learn! ... Uh huh... well, on the left side of the counter in the kitchen you will find an already paid airline ticket to Manhattan. We will all meet you at the airport. ... Well, talk to them, midear! I need you here tomorrow night. ... Alright, here's Phantom..." 

Phantom watched Sharm with a degree of astonishment. Phantom took the device, and held it to his ear. 

"Phantom? What on earth is going on?" Mandy's voice asked in pathetic bewilderment. 

"Oh, hello. Sharm is... an old friend of mine I sort of bumped into." 

"Well, fine, but what's up with Christine?" 

"We... uh, thought that you'd forgotten about us. Christine doesn't remember you or any of us." 

"Is she okay?" 

"Well, yes, I suppose." 

"Great, then the rest of it can wait until tonight. I'll see you all in Manhattan tomorrow night." 

Then the line was dead. 

"But..." Phantom protested, "we're in Kansas! How will we be in Manhattan by tomorrow night? That's two thousand miles away!" 

Sharm grinned gleefully. "As the gargoyle glides." 

  
  


* * *

The following evening 

Stanford, Connecticut 

  
  


Mandy looked at her watch. 8:47. She looked up. Across the Appalachian mountains behind the river, Mandy could see the enormous orange globe with shattered feathers of rainbows shooting from it dipping behind the horizon. 

She stepped back, and gave them a lot of room. 

Inside the tent, five stone figures curled. Mandy recognized only Christine and Phantom. Phantom looked the same as ever, but Christine's expression was unusual. 

With a sudden roar of fury and exuberation, the gargoyles burst from their stone forms and into the air of the fading day. 

Mandy sighed. "You know... I'm never gonna get used to that." 

Malcora and the others saw Mandy. Malcora looked at her with nervous anticipation. "Mandy! You have come!" she noted, coming forward. 

Phantom looked around at the landscape in confusion. Instead of the thick evergreen foliage, he found dense deciduous leaves. "Where are we? How did you find us, Mandy?" 

"Connecticut!" Mandy laughed. "You must have made good time last night! We're only a few miles away from Stanford, one of a string of towns that lead onto Interstate Ninety Five into Manhattan. Somebody... left a... note in my ticket information, so I just rented a pickup and came out here." 

Macaren, Lisonja, and Phantom looked at Mandy in exasperation. "M... Manhattan? We were in Kansas this morning before dawn!" 

Mandy shrugged, and turned to Malcora with a blank expression. 

Malcora leveled her eyes at Mandy, with a look that seemed to be taking her in for the first time. Mandy put her hands on her hips and looked at the gargoyle defiantly. 

"Been here for a while." Mandy laughed gaily. "Airplanes are a lot faster than you. My professors gave me some time off when I announced my plans for a research project." 

"Can I help?" Malcora volunteered. 

"Well, I didn't tell them this, but you ARE the project." 

"Eh?" 

"I'll explain later. Who's the dark pair?" 

"Macaren and Lisonja from my clan." Malcora said with a tone of formal introduction, leading Mandy out of the tent to where the gargoyles were gathering around the packs. 

"Your clan? Whatever, Christine. I leave you alone with them for a few weeks and you start to sound like Phantom." Mandy laughed. 

"Eh..." Phantom began, "Malcora, could you take up the bag so we may go hunt breakfast?" Phantom took Mandy gently by the arm, as if to lead her away. "I need to talk to you." he whispered. 

"What, Phantom?" she hissed at him. 

"She's not herself." 

"Okay, let me have it. What happened?" 

"She was placed under some kind of spell. It seems that her past was changed so that she was born a gargoyle." 

"If she was born a gargoyle, how come I still remember her as human? And GT, and her folks..." Mandy's expression changed. "That's why you didn't think I'd remember." 

"They... still remember her?" 

"Look, Phantom, that guy Sharm talked about has been feeding you a line." Mandy sighed at the large blue gargoyle. 

"You can't change history." Malcora said, revealing she had overheard. 

"What?" Phantom asked. 

"History is immutable." she restated. 

Phantom was puzzled. "How can you know that?" 

Malcora blinked. "Didn't you know that?" 

"I want to know how you learned it." 

"Someone told me about it, long ago." 

"Malcora, I want to know who told you." 

"Malcora?" Mandy asked, perplexed. 

"Yes, Malcora is the name of the gargoyle that now shares the same mind as her. The Weird Sisters said she would switch back and forth until they became one, but lately it's been only Malcora's voice we've heard. She will not even answer to the name Christine." 

Mandy's eyebrows were lowered. "I see, how weird. You MUST tell me all the details... later. I have dinner for you guys in the car." 

"Fast food?" Macaren inquired, with a disappointed voice. 

"Genuine article, cooked by Chris... Malcora's father only a few hours ago. I want to know if we wrapped it all tightly enough. I didn't want to spill it all over the cooler..." 

Macaren's face lightened in anticipation. "Do you know how long I've missed a home cooked meal?" 

"Christine's father is a cooker of foods?" Malcora asked. 

Mandy blinked at the statement for a moment. "Your father is." 

"How is Mr. Shelton, anyway?" Sharm inquired with a twinkling eye. 

"Ah... you're the one I talked with on the phone." Mandy assumed, holding out a hand. Sharm took her hand just right and shook it. 

"Yes, I am Sharm. How is Mike?" 

Mandy sighed. "Not good. He, Matt, and Ket are all alone now... they took Christine's 'death' like Terra's. The police found all kinds of other wounds on the body they took from the car. Gargoyle claws, and Mike knows it -- don't ask me how. I think Terra told him about gargoyles, and now he's taking it way too seriously. He thinks gargoyles killed Christine here, and now he's organizing a mob to kill them. Matthew seems to be backing him up." 

Sharm listened with a serious air, a new attitude for her. "And Ket?" Her voice was cold, she meant business. 

"If this keeps going, she'll probably hunt gargoyles as well." Mandy replied. 

"Perfect." Phantom groaned, holding his temples. 

* * *

The taco shells in tin foil had not even cracked on the way down. All the warm meats, and cold cuts of vegetables had kept moderately well. Mandy, Macaren, and Lisonja ate hungrily. Phantom was a bit uncertain at first, but finally caught on. Malcora was simply awkward. 

"Ick... human food." she complained. 

"Malcora, that was impolite!" Phantom chastised her. 

"Yes, elder." she sighed. She began to select some pieces and began to eat a taco. 

"So where are you two from, originally?" Mandy inquired Macaren, trying to ignore Malcora's behavior and mood of angst toward the food. 

"Drake Castle, on the Isle of Man." Malcora replied for them. Mandy sighed at her rebellious mood, and turned to her. 

"Alright, Malcora, tell me about yourself. Christine knows me very well, so why don't you get to know me also?" 

Malcora sneered. "Because I do not wish to, human." 

Mandy bristled, but did not reply. "I'm sorry to hear that." 

Mandy continued to meet Macaren and Lisonja, undisturbed for the remainder of the meal. 

* * *

"You can glide faster than I can drive, so maybe the air is the best way to go. Just remember this IS a rental car, so please don't sink your claws in it or anything -- I don't care HOW strong the urge is, if you decide to ride with me." Mandy replied. "Interstate 95 is usually clear of any traffic until we hit the Bronx, in which case you'll have to take to the air, and I'll try and meet you there, otherwise someone could see you. Though it would be nice if you'd stick with me, in case of muggers." Some of the gargoyles piled into the back of her pickup, and sat down. "Keep down back there, guys. From what I've heard there are evil gargoyles in Manhattan. Something about flying lookalike robots, the works. I doubt we'll be too popular if anyone notices you." 

"We can help direct you." Macaren offered, tossing the remains of dinner into a small basket and stuffing it in the corner of the cab. "The rest of you gliders hop in back. We'll do this southwest style. If things get crowded, take straight to the air." 

"That's okay, Macaren." Mandy replied. "I've done this before. I need you out of sight as much as possible." 

"Count me out." Sharm added. "I'll have to take care of some other business. See you when you come back! Try to avoid running into the skyscrapers!" 

They watched her walk away, but since she was still a mystery, they decided to ignore her. 

"Other gargoyles?" Phantom inquired. 

"Well, I know for certain they've found gargoyle robots, so I'm not too worried. I mean, what real gargoyle would do the stuff I've been hearing on the net? What would one of your kind be doing poisoning a police officer?" Mandy sighed. "Common, let's get going before we meet any of them." 

"Wonderful." Phantom sighed, his expression sour. This is just what he needed tonight. 

* * *

Malcora had never seen so much chaos in any one place in her life. In the middle of the night humans bustled about, honked at one another, and were noisy in general. Mandy's rental pickup had tinted windows, so no one really noticed Mandy's unusual passengers out on the open road, but as they approached the city, for safety, the gargoyles had taken off long ago, and Phantom noticed them hopping from one building to the next as Mandy impatiently waited for each stoplight and slowdown. 

After driving around in circles for a little while, they finally found the particular Elm Street that they needed to find to reach the small center street of a Manhattan suburb. 

"102 East." Mandy muttered, pulling up in a small parallel parking slot in the narrow street. The gargoyles were waiting for her in the alley. The shop was wood framed, and had some signs of age to it. A sign hung out over the street with ivy carvings around the edges of it, reading "FANTASY'S MAGIC SHOP". There were some unusual and ancient knickknacks filling the windows. These windows were the only ones on the street without bars on them. A light, somewhere upstairs, revealed that someone was awake inside. 

Malcora felt Mandy pull on her arms, and saw her turn to Phantom, Macaren, and Lisonja, telling them to keep a lookout while Malcora and her went inside. Malcora growled. Why did Macaren have to leave her with the little human? If there was a fight, she wanted to be there. 

Mandy motioned at Malcora. Malcora grumbled to herself for a moment, reached up, and rapped harshly three times on the door. There was little noise, but the light quickly appeared on the lower level. 

The door opened quickly. "Oh, hello. Come inside. You're late." 

"Late? We didn't even know we were coming here a few days ago." Mandy muttered, and they quickly stepped in past the shop keeper, who shut the door and bolted it behind them. He stopped, turned to them both, taking each of them in, in turn. He showed little surprise at the gargoyle. 

"Mandy got caught up in traffic." Phantom explained. 

Mandy's expression was utterly stupefied. The shop keeper led the college girl and gargoyle into the dark interior of the shop. Mandy moved carefully, as if afraid to bump into things her humans eyes could not detect in the dark... like Malcora's tail. 

They heard one door close behind them, and the room was suddenly filled with brightness. Malcora winced, and blinked her eyes a few times. 

Mandy looked around immediately. "Whoa!" she breathed. 

Malcora was amazed at the shelves and shelves of books, and small objects that simply radiated magical energy. 

"You are a keeper of magic?" Malcora addressed the shopkeeper. 

The shopkeeper was middle aged man with medium build, and dark features. He was dressed in black leather and grungy jeans. He seemed to have an air of uncanny friendliness about him, and something of an authoritarian. 

"We're looking for the proprietor." Mandy stated. She felt a little odd shopping this late at night with a gargoyle, but for some reason the shop keeper hardly noticed Malcora's large light pink form. 

"Fanny's not here -- government business." he said in a low voice. 

Malcora took the small slip of paper with scrolled writing on it, and handed it to the shopkeeper. 

He blinked, and looked at the script for a moment. 

"Oh! Just a moment..." 

He stooped down under one counter and began fumbling through things. There were few moments as the noises of moving about continued, before there was an "Ahah!", then a thud under the counter top, immediately followed by an "Ow!". 

The figure reappeared holding a small pink carbon copy sheet, holding his head with his other hand, wincing. His hair was slightly disheveled now. He extended the slip to Malcora. Malcora blinked at it for a moment, and then passed it to Mandy. 

Invoice Notice

Item(s): stone statues

Weight: 2.11 tons

Shipped to: Hot Water Ranch, Arizona

Authorization: Fanny

Mandy gasped. "ARIZONA?" 

Malcora blinked. "Where is Arizona?" 

"Not far from the land we just left." Mandy grumbled. The store keeper shrugged, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. There was a metallic sound as he flipped open a brass Zippo, struck the flint a few times, and began to light the cigarette. 

* * *

"ARIZONA? YOU'RE NUTS!" Macaren declared. "That's nearly three thousand miles in the other direction!" Mandy was thankful the alleyway was empty, or else his voice could have carried quite a ways. 

"The date on the bottom says this was only done a few days ago." 

"This is why the shopkeeper said we were late." Malcora observed. 

Mandy sighed. In the background, Mandy heard something, and looked up. Malcora must have heard it as well, and soon everyone was looking up at the sky to where the sound had come from. 

"Birds?" Macaren asked. 

"Not this time of day - Gargoyles, I'd say." Phantom scowled. "Probably not anyone we want to meet." 

Mandy was already starting the ignition. "I'll meet you guys outside of town." 

Phantom and the others nodded. One by one they reached the far side of the alley, and clawed their way up the brick side with their steel-ripping claws. Mandy was already turning back out onto Elm street by the time they had taken to the air. 

  
  


Macaren and Malcora were sailing along at their own rate, while Lisonja and Phantom looked back at them from the lead. Macaren was holding Malcora around the waist, as both glided along in close quarters. They were making any number of sounds that made Phantom uncomfortable, and made Lisonja blush. 

"Hurry up, you two!" Phantom called. "Mandy's speeding up down there." 

* * *

"Nightowl?" Sharm asked with disbelief, "Nightowl, you're alive?!!!" 

Nightowl looked worriedly at the fay woman who had just entered the shop. How had they found him out? "Uh... Hi Sharm." 

"Gosh, didn't anybody go to the gathering?" 

"You mean you're not here to make me go back?" Nightowl had shown no outward signs of worry, but he relaxed visibly at her remark. 

"No, of course not. I just barely got out of going myself. Is Fanny here?" 

"No, she's out on family business." 

"Oh. You mean the one she's hoping to join?" 

"Um, you could say that." 

"Drat. I'll have to give it to her in Arizona." 

"She's already expecting you there, Sharm." 

"Not me exactly. Well, thanks for the information. Good luck avoiding the Gathering." 

"Thanks." he replied sarcastically. Sharm left before he even finished saying the word. 

* * *

"We're not going!" Macaren protested. 

"Why on earth should we continue across the world after this thing?" Malcora added. 

"You do whatever you want." Phantom replied, "I'm going, so you might as well give me the sheet." 

Malcora tossed him the pink slip without a thought. "Keep it." 

Mandy sat in the driver's seat, ready to start banging her head on the steering wheel. She had not even had the chance to get out of the car before the gargoyles had landed and started arguing. She was to the point of pulling her hair out, when she suddenly heard a voice next to her. 

"Annoying, isn't he?" Sharm asked. She was sitting on the passenger side, legs crossed, wings wrapped around her, idly playing with a strand of her hair. 

"Who?" 

"Macaren." 

"Well... he's kinda opinionated, but he's got a point." 

"Not really." She said smugly. 

"What do you mean? Christine is doting over him, and we've just been told to go all the way back to the west for these darn... statues. What on earth will we do with statues when we have them? I'm certainly not going to use a rental truck to haul them across the US!" 

"You don't like how those two are acting, do you?" 

Now Mandy was REALLY ready to hit her head on the steering wheel. "NO, of course I don't like it! It's not even like her to act like this! She's a completely different person!", then she added softly to herself, "I want the old Christine back." 

"I don't like it either. But luckily it's not going to last forever. The odd thing is that she didn't even like Macaren until recently. She liked Joseph... up until that last day. But, that's another story. We've got THEM to worry about." she said, pointing to the fighting quadrumvirate with one talon. "Do you think you can keep them here 'til sunrise?" 

Mandy glared at her. "Yes -- whatever for?" 

"I've got something up my sleeve." 

Mandy's eyebrows quirked. 

* * *

Mandy started setting up the tent -- on her own. This had the effect of making the others feel guilty, and so they kept arguing with words, while Mandy took charge of cooking, and sleeping -- well, stone sleeping arrangements, keeping them all bustling about around their makeshift camp out in a small field of trees several miles out in the countryside outside Stanford. 

Sharm was nowhere to be seen, and Mandy began to get suspicious of the talkative, red haired, lavender gargoyle. 

After camp was set up, everyone had mostly agreed on only one thing; to stop arguing before something got broken. Sharm then reappeared, and Mandy glared at her. "Thanks for the help setting up camp." 

"Anytime!" she answered brightly. She smiled at her, placed a paw on Mandy's shoulder, and turned them both so that their backs were to the others. "I had a lot of things that had to be done. Can I have a bite to eat?" 

"Sure..." Mandy sighed. "Why not...?" 

Sharm sat down on a blanket laid out across the flat surface of a rock, accepted a bowl with thanks, and began to eat with her normal... enthusiasm. 

Gathering the gargoyles into the tent after dinner, Mandy watched Sharm take her time entering with the others. Phantom and Macaren were still muttering between themselves about whether or not they should continue on their journey, and had decided very little. 

Mandy turned her back on them, and continued to clean dishes, until suddenly the voices stopped. She turned. 

The gargoyles were stone. 

Mandy turned back to the dishes for a few moments, until the sound of cracking stone came to her ears. Mandy looked back at the gargoyles, thinking her ears were playing tricks on her. 

Sharm's stone form decomposed and burst away to reveal a small elven woman with the same flaming red hair hanging in the air where Sharm had been. 

Mandy gasped, wide eyed. 

Sharm brought a finger to her lips. "Shhhhhh..." 

With that, Mandy promptly fainted. 

"Poor girl." Sharm said softly to herself. "Probably been up all night..." 

  
  


* * *

Arizona 

  
  


With a brilliant display, the bright rays of the day rippled the air as the sun fell. The evening lights faded to night, as the gargoyles awakened. Sharm, Malcora, Macaren, and Lisonja, and Phantom broke out of their stone forms with a roar. 

Phantom looked around for Mandy as he left the tent, and was met with a very different scene from the one the morning before. He gasped. The others emerged, and mostly did the same. 

The land was relatively flat, but rolling, covered in brush and small cactus plants, and dotted with occasionally with a large bush trying to be a tree. The dirt was sand-like, and red in color. Cattle were grazing in the fields. A ranch hand was even visible on the near side of the valley. 

"Where are we?" they gasped. 

"Arizona." Mandy answered. Phantom turned to her, as she stood flipping hamburgers on a gas grill, dressed in a cowboy shirt and form fitting jeans. "I suppose the name Flagstaff wouldn't mean a whole lot to you, but it's not all that far from here. I have some friends going to school over there." 

"Overnight?" Phantom touched his temples like a headache was coming on. "How did it happen?" 

"Beats me." Mandy said, "All I know is you guys turned to stone, and then I woke up around noon here with everything else from camp. My clothes were changed, the food was different..." 

Sharm simply nodded her approval of it all. 

"Phantom," Macaren began accusingly, "You have a singular ability to take people wherever you wish them be." 

"I had nothing to do with this." 

"Then who did?" Malcora asked pointedly. 

Phantom simply looked at Sharm. 

"What? You think I did this?" She began rummaging through the pouch at her side. "Let's see. Pixie dust, an alicorn, life lotion, powdered hens teeth... Nope, no transportation dust!" 

Everyone decided to ignore her. 

  
  


"I'm just glad I took the rental truck back last night. I have no idea how I would explain getting it here without putting three thousand miles on it." Mandy continued, her usual brilliantly chipper self. 

Sharm immediately rushed over to help Mandy with dinner. Malcora and Macaren appeared to be ready to take off for a courting glide any minute. 

"Stay clear of the land beyond the signpost there. Somebody came along there not too long ago with a sawed off shotgun. He was NONE to happy to see you guys, and wouldn't even help me find a stupid payphone. Jerk." 

"A pleasant neighborhood." Lisonja nodded. 

"You have no idea." Sharm muttered, and began to sort paper plates out. "If you only knew the half of it." 

Phantom took in the lay of things carefully. There was a road off to one side, and an alfalfa field on the other side. Although Phantom couldn't see it, he knew there was something next to the road on the near side, further on. There were obviously lights, he could make out in the rising darkness. 

Phantom forced himself not to watch Macaren and Malcora as they laughed and played. 

  
  


The Hot Water Ranch 

  
  


Justy was outside working with a length of vinyl tubing. He cursed to himself momentarily about the size of the fitting needed to hook the supply hose up to the generator. He trudged through the grass with half a mind to give up just go on in to dinner, and tell Uncle Allsworth to see about a bushing for the hose fitting, and to refill the propane tank. 

Casually he scanned the sky as the sun's last lights were disappearing. 

"Excuse me?" a voice asked. Justy whipped around, startled. 

A gargoyle stood on the wall, his back to the road. 

Well, it hadn't done anything, and Justy could see it's tail, so it obviously wasn't one of the Grotesques. He doubted it was anyone with intent to do harm. The figure leapt down from the fence onto the lawn, and hung his wings naturally. "I hope I'm not... interrupting anything." 

Justy found his voice. "Uh... no - hi. Who are you?" 

The front door opened, and someone turned the porch light on. "Justy?" Uncle Allsworth emerged from it. "Who have you found?" 

"My name is Phantom. I believe you, sir, are the one we have been sent to find." the gargoyle said, producing a pink slip of carbon copy paper from his pocket. Uncle Allsworth accepted it, taking it without a bit of premonition from his talons. 

'Phantom' was medium tall compared to Justy, and only slightly younger -- probably a year or two under twenty (by human standards). He was toned a rather sharp, deep blue, with a human- like face, save for a few small horns on his brow, white hair, and deep midnight blue wings. He seemed to have a very serious expression but there was a bit of light to his voice that betrayed another side to him. 

Looking at the invoice, Allsworth began to wonder if this was some kind of trick. The slip told him just about nothing -- except for a carbon copy of Fanny's John Hancock on the bottom line. "I don't know if I have what you're..." he began. 

A rush of leathery wings betrayed several more gargoyles touching down on the wall, one carrying a human girl. Each leapt down from the wall. 

"Sharm finished the dishes for us." 

"Find anything, Phantom?" 

"Well, I think this is the man, but you came in just as..." 

The human woman cut him off, whistling at the house. "Ohh... now this is the type of house I've dreamed of living in!" 

They looked at her with expressions from curiosity to annoyance. Allsworth decided that he would have to keep this fiasco in hand, and interrupted them before they could say any more. 

"Look, we've just got dinner on inside, why don't you all come in and have dinner with us -- on me. Justy -- Harold's looking for you." 

"We don't want to be any trouble, sir." one of the females said, one of the two with deep black skin. "We've already eaten." 

"It's no trouble, I enjoy this -- come on inside. Maybe we can," he flipped the pink slip in his fingers, "...figure out what it is you're after." 

* * *

"They're looking for... what?" Valkyre demanded curtly. The gargoyles and humans lounged on a couch and on the floor in one corner of the library, as Allsworth attempted to file the new gargoyles inside. 

"I have no idea. The slip is completely vague. Hang on... here they come." 

Morgain took the slip from him, and scowled at the scrawling handwriting. "Whew! Does Fanny still not believe in a merchandise cataloging?" 

Allsworth shrugged. 

The gargoyles were quiet as they filed inside. 

The first in was an enigmatic gargoyle with a lot of flaming red hair. Her first reaction to the others was to turn to Kestrel and wave delightedly, who, in return, scowled at her. A human followed, dark haired, probably only about twenty or so dressed in a western style outfit that fit right in with the countryside, and with a lot of dark hair. She was followed by the blue gargoyle Uncle Allsworth and Justy had met outside. He was followed by two well built gargoyles with pure black skin, the female first, and then the male, who was holding the hand of the light pinkish gargoyle in the jumpsuit with a lot of wing covering her as she hung her wings on her shoulders coming through the door. Allsworth closed the door behind them. 

"Ah," the human girl whispered, "civilization, at last." 

Once inside, the pinkish gargoyle and both black ones flared their wings again in the somewhat more open space. There were some interesting looks among the ranch gargoyles at the pink gargoyle's double wings, and how she clung to the black male. The others remained sedated, clustering near each other, talking in low voices with the human. 

Allsworth approached the first threesome, and shook their hands/paws in turn. "...and who might you all be?" 

"Mandy Dateair." the human said with spunk. 

"Sharm." Sharm answered with equal flamboyance. 

Allsworth turned to the other three "Do you have names?" 

"Macaren." said the black male. Allsworth didn't care much for his condescending smirk. 

"Lisonja." the black female said in an over dignified voice. 

Then Allsworth turned to the pink one with the double wings. Immediately, there was a reaction on Uncle Allsworth's face. He extended his hand, and only reluctantly did she take it. 

"Malcora." 

Allsworth's eyebrows quirked. "Phantom, perhaps I can help you after all." he glanced at 'Malcora' once again. "But after we've eaten." 

Most of the heads nodded at that. Tink immediately latched onto the human named Mandy. Lavender began playing social butterfly again. Kestrel decided he wanted to talk to the red head. 

With the volume of chatter rising once again, they filed out into the kitchen. 

* * * 

Gary and Allsworth accompanied the six gargoyles ahead of the others who actually harbored an interest out to the wall. They passed by a fair number of stone gargoyles. They seemed to be grouped together according to their appearances. They passed a lot of Ancient American gargoyles, and a few that Malcora really couldn't place. 

"Sahara? How did YOU end up here?" Sharm stopped and asked one of the statues. 

Malcora was becoming suspicious that what they were looking for wasn't here, and that the quest would not continue. However, Allsworth stopped near one far end of the wall, where five other gargoyles stood. 

"Here we are..." Allsworth began, "I think the... wait a second!" 

"What is it?" Mandy inquired. 

"There are... more than I expected. Gary? Did we get some more and you simply forgot to tell me?" 

Gary shook his head, looking with a blank expression at the gargoyles on this part of the wall. 

There were two gargoyles on the first half of the wall here, entwined in an embrace, one a rather impressive figure of a male gargoyle, which appeared wholly intact and undamaged, unlike the female he held, which had a large chunk missing from her side under her wings, had some outward branching cracks, and the entire side of her head appeared to be smashed. Whole limbs from this gargoyle were missing, namely the wings, one arm, and one leg. Finally, there were three females clustered together on the end of the wall, each looking alike, save they each stood in different poses - like gargoyle triplets. 

The other three were the ones Gary could not explain. The invoice slip listed the other two... but who were these three? 

"It is THEY!" Phantom exclaimed, rushing to the wall to touch them. "My sisters!" 

Macaren looked at Phantom with an expression that said 'You're crazy.' 

"That one is why I brought you to see these two here." Allsworth said, pointing to Malcora, then to the broken female on the end. "Especially you." 

Malcora looked at the stone figure, barely tolerating the entire display. However, once she did, her entire countenance changed. The damaged female in the male's embrace was an identical twin of Malcora. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Suddenly, Christine awoke. She looked around her with utter confusion, and fell backwards on the unlevel ground. Phantom was at her side in a moment or two, helping her up. 

"Oh! Thank you, Phantom. Wooaaaaaaah! What happened? One minute I was talking to those three sorceresses, then all of the sudden WHOOSH!" Christine said. 

Phantom's eyebrows lowered. "Malcora? What's wrong?" 

"Malcora? What has she got to do with this?" 

"Christine? Is it...?" he asked with hope lighting his eyes. 

"Yeah... who'd you think, silly?" she said sarcastically. 

Macaren touched her shoulder, and Christine suddenly batted away his touch. "Hey..." 

He backed off, startled. Mandy came rushing over at the occurrence. "Christine?" 

"Mandy! What on earth are you doing out here...? Where are we, anyway?" 

"Well, she called me, and told me I had tickets... Not sure where they came from, though..." 

Sharm simply grinned. "Hello, Christine. Welcome back to reality." 

Christine looked at Sharm with puzzlement. "Who are YOU? How long was I gone? WHAT'S GOING ON, PHANTOM?" Christine nearly screamed in bewilderment. 

"The Weird Sisters changed your mind so that you would switch back and forth between your two personalities, until you could cope with them both at the same time, but it's been mostly Malcora all this time; she vanished as soon as she looked at..." Phantom began, turning to the statues behind him. They both got a good look. 

"Oh my..." Christine muttered. 

Allsworth could almost have grinned as Christine studied the figure which bore her own face. It was like looking into a mirror, only one of the two was made of highly damaged stone pieces. When he had first taken a good look at her in the library, he recognized her instantly. But, how did a living gargoyle have a 300 year old slightly damaged double? Twin sister, perhaps? Who was the nice looking gentleman embracing her? 

Christine stepped next to the stone figure, touching it. "It's me!... but how?" 

"Who is he?" Allsworth inquired, pointing at the male figure. 

"I... I have no idea... I've never seen him before." 

By this time, Sharm was becoming quite distressed. "You don't remember me, EITHER?" She turned to the three identical statues, and shook an accusing talon at them. "This is all your fault!" 

Suspecting her insane, the others promptly ignored her again. 

"Okay, Phantom. Why don't we all sit down, munch cookies or something, and have you all tell me EXACTLY what is going on, why I've got a double in stone on a wall, who she is, and just everything like that?" Christine asked sweetly, batting her eyes. 

Gary volunteered to go get the cookies. 

  
  


"Okay, lets make a list of everything I don't understand in the slightest." Christine announced, taking a pen from the table, and began scribbling on a sheet of paper. "(1) How did Mandy get the airline tickets? (2) How did we get to Manhattan? (3) How did we get to Arizona from Manhattan? (4) Who exactly is Sharm, anyway? (5) What's up with the gargoyle's on the wall?" 

Sharm and Kitty were seated on the floor, both seemingly purring contentedly. Macaren and Lisonja were behind one of the sofas, pacing nervously. Phantom was seated somewhat comfortably on the sofa next to Christine, who was lounging on the sofa on her back, with the pen and paper in hand, occasionally nibbling the eraser in a distinctly human fashion. Allsworth was leaning against a chair near Christine, reading over her shoulder. Gary was nowhere to be seen. An occasional other gargoyle of the ranch passed in and out of the den, looking at the odd spectacle. 

"Those sound like good questions for me to answer." Sharm sighed, "You still don't remember me, do you?" 

"Should I?" 

"YES! Well, it just happens that Phantom's sisters decided not to give you those memories..." she began. 

Christine paused. You could almost see her take Sharm's remark, adding two plus two together. She got five. Christine's eyes popped open. She smacked her forehead. "AUGH! WHY DIDN'T I SEE IT BEFORE?!!! Phantom! Those three identical stoneheads out there are THE Weird Sisters. How are THEY a part of your rookery?!!!" 

Phantom bit his tongue. 

"Those three out there did THIS to me?" Christine continued with a note of horror, staring at Phantom in shock. 

Phantom didn't reply, only looked at Sharm. 

Christine looked at Sharm. 

"I think the questions just came back to my ballcourt." Sharm sighed. 

Phantom groaned. "I never did mention what that entire conversation, where I got the slip of paper that told us to go to Manhattan, entailed, I admit. It's not like you would have really been kind about the fact a few weeks ago." 

Christine sighed. That was very true. She began to circle her questions on the page, and doodle in the margins, drawing little stick figures with wings and tails. 

Phantom looked at Sharm. "Thanks a lot." 

"Anytime." Sharm smiled. 

"May I suggest that we chain Sharm up in the basement until we find out what is going on?" Macaren suggested viciously. 

"I have some chains that will hold a gargoyle!" Valkyre offered, shouting from another room. 

"Mind telling me where you got them?" Allsworth shouted back to her. 

"Problem is, you won't find out anything without me." Sharm smiled contentedly again. Gary appeared with a cup of tea, and handed it to her. She thanked him, and hummed to herself as she stirred it. 

She did not drink it -- only played with it. 

Gary decided to ignore her and try for the cookies. 

Everyone else stared at Sharm. 

"Alright Sharm, I'll make this easy for you." Christine asked derisively. "I'll start asking you things in small, simple sentences, and you can answer with one of two options: a YES or a No." 

"Yes, dear." Sharm answered sweetly. 

"Are you responsible for the airline tickets? They appeared when you wanted them to be there." Mandy inquired. 

"Airline tickets?" Sharm asked innocently, batting her eyelashes for effect. 

"The ones that got me to Manhattan?" Mandy asked. 

"Oh, those tickets! Weren't they there all along?" 

"As a matter of fact, no they weren't. I'd have noticed something as expensive as first class tickets across the United States on a Xanatos Enterprises private airline before someone else could point them out to me from a cellular phone from the other side of the Rockies in Kansas!" Mandy added, somehow maintaining perfect calm in her voice. Quite a feat, actually. 

"You want a straight answer?" 

"YES!" Phantom burst. 

"Phantom, I thought you were used to this." she stated, "You do it to others often enough." 

Phantom glared at her. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!" he exclaimed. Allsworth flinched. 

"Alright... straight answer." she moaned, "Yes, I did -- all of those things. So what?" 

"The transportation to and from Manhattan?" Lisonja asked. 

"Yes..." Sharm drolled. 

"How?" Christine asked. 

"Do you really want to know?" 

There was a simultaneous cry of "YES!" throughout the entire room. 

"Great, there goes my disguise, thanks a lot Phantom." she muttered. 

Phantom's jaw dropped. 

"Disguise?" Allsworth asked, but changed his mind. He began to rub his sinuses. "Oh, never mind -- I think I see where this is going." 

Gary returned to the room with a plate of cookies, to find a short elven girl with flaming red hair select one of the cookies from the plate, and thank him for it. 

Gary touched his temples. "Not again..." he moaned. 

Sharm, child of the Third Race, giggled. 

* * * 

Actually knowing how to understand Sharm, they found it much easier to cope with her -- simply don't try at all. Her idea of a raring fun night was to awaken all five of the gargoyles they had come for -- simultaneously. 

That is, except for the Christine statue on the near end -- she would never wake up again. 

The male gargoyle holding her awoke, and his companion was still stone. His touch found the gash in her side, and his eyes opened with shock. He leaned over onto the Christine-figure, and tears welled up in his eyes. 

"My love..." 

Christine ahemed politely. 

The male gargoyle turned to Christine. He had flawless white colored skin, and his face seemed vaguely familiar to Christine. "Who are you?" Christine inquired. 

"Mal... Malcora?" he asked, looking back and forth between the statue and the living gargoyle several times in confusion. 

Christine tapped her head. "She's... in here... somewhere." 

"Don't you know me?" 

"I am Malcora's self from long in the future -- I'm sorry I don't." 

The white gargoyle bowed. "I am Sir Joseph, my love." 

Christine backed off from him slightly. Macaren ruffled slightly. This was really beginning to boost Christine's self esteem! If only she had this luck with boys as a human... 

Christine turned to the other three gargoyles, three dark green females, all colored and shaped exactly alike, save for three different shades of hair: gold, white, and ebony. 

Phantom introduced them. "Christine, meet Selene, Luna, and Phoebe." 

Christine hesitated, then bowed before the three, her arms wide, and then stood up again. "Miladies." She addressed them formally. 

"You need not bow, Christine Shelton." 

"We are your companions for the next leg of your voyage." 

"We are your equals for this journey." 

"Though unwillingly." Selene added, unhappily. 

Christine began to count on her talons. Herself, Phantom, Mandy, Macaren, Lisonja, Sharm, Sir Joseph, Phoebe, Luna, Selene, and a stone figure of herself. She ran out of talons after Phoebe, and had to do it in her head. Ten people and a rock-head. This ought to be nuts. "We don't have food enough for ten, do we?" 

"Oh no, oh no! OH NO YOU DON'T! You three are NOT coming with us!" Sharm demanded. 

"Sister, you are called home." 

"You will not be able to continue with this quest at this moment." 

"You will be able to return soon, we promise." 

"Excuse me! I have a safety net, here. You can't gather me without gathering the human I'm linked to." 

The sisters looked at each other, and shrugged. "This is for Oberon to deal with." 

"Just be sure you feed yourself." Christine added. 

The fay Sharm flashed in a shock of light, and reappeared in her gargoyle form. "Since we all seem to be going about dressed like this..." 

"Impersonator." Christine accused her. 

However, something else occurred which changed the numbers slightly. Sir Joseph turned to Lisonja. "Sister! It is good to see you as yourself again." 

"Our human quest to the Spanish ended after the destruction of our home, and we lived for three hundred years in that accursed human form, until now." 

"Don't listen to her." Macaren whispered to Christine. "He was in love with her long before he ever loved you." 

Christine very nearly slapped him. 

Sharm glared at Sir Joseph. "So this is the betrayer..." Sharm growled, eyes turning red. 

"Understand, things are different now! I died with my love!" Sir Joseph said, turning to the stone figure, then to Lisonja. "But now I have another back." 

Sir Joseph kissed Lisonja. 

"Men." Sharm groaned. Christine harumphed in consent. 

"We will not be able to join you." Lisonja said. "We must go." 

"See the world." Sir Joseph echoed. 

"My, this is sudden." Christine said. "Now they're starting to talk like them." Christine pointed at the weird trio. 

Uncle Allsworth just laughed at this. 

The only problem was what to do with a cracked version of Christine, undoubtedly Malcora, from long ago. The Allsworth clan seemed more than willing to have a few gargoyles that they didn't need to worry about protecting on the ranch, but Christine asked them to protect it anyway. 

"Why?" Uncle Allsworth inquired. 

"Ever have that feeling that someone just walked over your grave? This was my body once. If I ever settle down, I may want to keep her... for personal reasons." 

Allsworth smiled. He was going to like Christine! They would have to keep in touch. 

They accepted the invitation to stay one day, and then made plans and left the following night. Sir Joseph and Lisonja made their own way east, and the others waved to them as they flew off together. Christine wished she could feel some remorse for Lisonja's leaving, but for some reason the feelings were not there. Malcora was absent from her mind. Christine wished that they could both be present in her mind all the times. Perhaps in the future that would happen. 

Sharm had one other thing she needed to take care of before they left. 

"Allsworth?" She asked sweetly. "Could you deliver something for me?" 

Allsworth was puzzled at first, but when Sharm gave him a small oval mirror, he found himself oddly unsurprised. 

"Could you give this to Fanny, for me please? It's from her father." 

"Oh stars..." Now Allsworth was sure he did not want to know what THIS was about. 

Phantom was pleasantly surprised to see the clan of the Arizona ranch gathered to bid them farewell. There were an awful lot of them -- and Christine wished she could get to know them all. They were gargoyles -- and somehow Christine felt a kinship to them. If she really had been born this way, she felt comforted to know she had neighbors still in this world. 

Mandy held her arms out to Christine, and Christine let Mandy climb up piggy back onto her back for the glide. 

Christine pounded her talons into the wall, and scaled it, the others following. It was a little unusual seeing Phoebe, Luna, and Selene in their dark green young gargoyle forms, climbing up the wall. They actually did the work themselves! It seemed to Christine that the "Weird Sisters" didn't normally do this sort of work! Yet, they leapt from the wall, circled for altitude, and glided. Christine was amazed. She would never have believed it had she not actually been seeing them. 

Truly, they had hidden talents. 

After a few final remarks and thanks, the party departed, supplies and all, heading north again. 

"Where are we headed?" Christine inquired. 

"North and West." Phoebe answered. 

"To the wood of your brother's savior." Selene added. 

"Eh?" Phantom asked. 

"Don't ask." Sharm commented. 

"My brother?" 

"I have a feeling we'll find out when we need to know." Phantom groaned. 

"And not until then." Sharm finished. 

"Your sisters are quite the tour guides." Christine commented. 

"Aye, I have many ODD rookery sisters. Them especially." Phantom groaned again. 

"Rookery Sisters?" Christine asked. 

"Aye. They are not my true sisters. Yet, we accept them in our clan just as any other. We are one clan." Phantom added. 

The Weird Sisters glanced at one another. Christine couldn't help but note the cold looks they gave her. 

"Huh. I can hardly wait to meet the REST of your rookery." Christine commented. 


	4. Family

Edited by:   
Pegasus   
and   
MaryK 
Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
Last revision: February 29, 2000 
Revised by:   
Cinnamon   
and   
Dasha Ariel 

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

  
  


* * *

June 19, 1996 

  
  


The rain clouds had rolled into Salt Lake City early in the day, and no one had really thought very much about it. GT had arrived first, with a large basket of roses, which he set next to the closed casket. 

Mike Shelton seemed unwilling to trust himself speak to him immediately. GT looked at the closed ebony coffer once more, and shook his head. 

Mike was wondering how he must be feeling. It was so impossible. Mike would never believe it. He had... been to too many funerals. First his wife in a car accident, now this. How was it he continued allowing his family to slowly slip through his fingers? 

GT only watched. There were only a few words spoken between Mike and GT, but GT seemed uncomfortable. Mike only felt sorry for him. 

He would never understand the claw marks. 

The service passed interminably for Mike. All the time the casket loomed before him like the Masque of the Red Death. That was Christine in there. He'd lost her just as he'd lost Terra. The two most important women in his life. 

  
  


Rain had began to fall outside, dripping incessantly on the wood lid. 

GT cornered Mike after the flowers had been cast. Mike was leaning over on the casket as it lay on the grass besides the grave. The stone was already laid. 

Christine Patya Shelton

March 21, 1978 - 

May 27, 1996 

Daughter of Mike & Terra Shelton 

Our Eternally Beloved Angel 

Below, in small letters, were the immortal words for genealogists to stumble over for years to come. 

"Died under mysterious circumstances in an automobile accident." 

Fitting words for parents that had cared so deeply for Christine, GT thought, "Eternally Beloved". Did Christine ever know her parents had cared for her THIS much? When she fought with them over school grades, or the car? 

Matthew and Keturah stood nearby, standing together. Matthew, 13, seemed to want to show Ket that he was there for her. Ket, 11, huddled close to him, weeping. 

So was Mike, for that matter. 

Young Matthew's lower lip quivered too, and his eyes watered. They all missed her. If only Christine had known how much they missed her. 

GT pondered introspectively if it were ever possible that the deceased know how much the people left behind had loved them? GT pondered his own family for a moment, and looked down at his shoes. 

How Christine had "gone" was what truly hurt the most. GT knelt by Mike, holding his shoulder. He wondered if he could ever tell him. How does one tell a mourning father that the body inside his daughter's casket wasn't real, and that his daughter lived as some sort of flying night monster with pink skin? 

Yes, it was very possible that the Christine they had know was gone -- unreachable. How did GT say she was more now? 

  
  


Mike couldn't seem to find words either, and they both glumly watched as the coffin was lowered into the grave, Matthew and Keturah wrapped in their arms. How did Mike tell GT that she had died brutally, without mercy at the hands of cruel, savage beasts? Creatures of the night bent on the destruction of his family and mankind? 

  
  


Yes, Christine is an angel, GT thought. Just not HIS angel anymore. Now she was an angel of the night. 

  
  


Beside the tombstone was another, marking the grave next to Christine's. 

Terra Christine Shelton

March 21, 1954 - 

May 27, 1991 

"Died under suspicious circumstances in an automobile accident." 

* * * 

The windshield wipers slapped at the rain, but hardly did it justice. It was a dark road heading out of Parley's canyon out of Salt Lake City to their home in Park City. It was nothing more than a half hour trip, but it was worth it to have Christine buried beside her mother. 

Ket still cried in the back seat. Mike cursed having to drive. He should be with Ket, now of all times. He pulled the Toyota Tercel aside on the highway, and shut it off. 

Everybody sat in the back seat next to Ket. The night was silent, except for the cars on Interstate Eighty. Mike kept hoping Matthew and Keturah would go to sleep, but somehow it was appropriate that none of them could sleep tonight. 

"Daddy?" Ket asked. 

"Yes, Ket?" 

"Can we go see Christy tomorrow?" 

Mike paused. He should be at the office tomorrow, he thought automatically. Then, he stopped that thought. The people at work had given him two weeks paid vacation when they heard of Christine's death on the news, and he had yet to use it all. He should take tomorrow off at the very least -- for the children. Doubtless they would take all of this harder than he. He'd been through this before. Ket had been barely a year old at the time, and Matthew had only been seven, when Terra had died. They still hadn't know what deaths were like until now. 

Mike wondered if he would ever get used to it. He hoped he never would or need to. 

"Yes, honey. We can go see Christy and Mommy tomorrow." 

"Dad?" Matthew asked quickly. 

"Hmm?" 

"I don't want to go to school on Monday." 

"I understand, Matthew. What would you like to do instead?" 

Matthew shifted on the seat. His usual response was that he didn't know, which meant he had only been expressing his feelings on the matter. However, tonight was so morbidly different, that Mike was not surprised that Matthew answered that question tonight. 

"I want to leave." 

"Where do you want to go?" 

"Far away." 

"We can't leave Christy!" Ket protested. Mike held her head next to his shoulder. 

"Maybe that's exactly why we should go." Mike wondered. "Because we need to learn to live without them for now." 

Ket bit her lip. Mike hoped she would understand until she was old enough to know fully what he meant. Matthew hung his head, but seemed to feel about the same. 

"Tell you what. Tomorrow, I'll call Delta and arrange some tickets to Sacramento, so we can go camping." 

Normally, the children would have jumped in reply, excited and full of energy and anticipation. Christine would already have begun to think about what she would pack. However, tonight Christine was not there, and Matthew and Keturah could only mumble their responses. 

  
  


After the children had finally fallen asleep, Mike did not want to wake them just yet by moving to the front of the car. He wondered what would happen if Christine came home, and they had a good laugh about this. However, Mike was a father, and told himself to accept that Christine was buried and not to be silly. 

Christine was never coming back. 

The rain had let up for a moment, and the moon was slightly visible in the night sky. Mike thought for a moment he heard a cry, the shrill voice of a Coyote breaking freshly out after the rain to howl at the moon. His voice seemed to cry with Mike. 

Mike couldn't seem to stop himself when this happened, and let a tear drip from his face again. The Coyote howled again. 

Almost in the back of his mind he could hear Terra's voice calling his name in that Coyote's cry. "Michael... Michael..." the voice said. Although the words meant little, the love they spoke was clear. 

"Christine..." Mike muttered. "Christine... Why?" Why did she have to die on him too? Why did those monsters have to pick them out of any other family in the United 

States? 

"Why?..." the whispering voice echoed, quiet as the breeze. 

* * *

The tour guide showed them the rolls of the mountains as he drove them along the twisting road that led to the entrance into the forest. Once gaining the top, they passed the visitors center, and all the central attractions of the park, and fanned out to the sparser areas where the campgrounds were. They continued to pass these, out to a place where the rocks became jagged, the hillsides steeper, and the cliff sides taller and more common. 

Here is where they chose to make camp. They were away from all the crowds -- out where they would be alone -- and all would be relatively quiet. 

"The only thing going on out here is just that they're trying to clean up a rock slide. There's been some tremors up this way in the last few months, and so there's been a coupl'a slides." The guide explained. Mike, in the front seat listened with seemingly half an ear. The guide noticed how distracted they all were, but decided it might be best to keep talking so that they didn't feel like he was giving them a cold shoulder. The California Forest Service 4X4 had a very long cab, and so Matt and Ket sat in the back seat, quiet as the night itself. 

As they turned into the campsite they had chosen, the guide shut the lights off, and slowly everyone filed out of the truck. The dark was thick under the canopy of trees, and no stars showed through the rain clouds that hung overhead here as well. 

Matthew found the bark, dirt, and twigs of the forest floor soggy and mushy to step on -- like a thick mat of carpet. He wandered around the new campsite for a few moments, taking in the lay of the area. 

"Don't wander too far, Matt!" Mike called to him. 

"Yeah Dad." he replied. 

At that moment, Matthew thought he heard a rustle in the bushes. He looked at them. Nothing moving there. 

He turned back to Mike. He was kneeling by Ket, helping her find something in one of the bags they had pulled from the back of the 4X4. No one was watching him any longer. 

He began to wander through the bushes, wondering if he could find the source of the sound. He'd never find it like this! He moved slowly, quietly, trying not to make a sound. 

He continued for a few moments, until a glint in the night caught his attention. His head snapped around, just in time to see the glint of an eye. 

  
  


Someone was looking at him. 

  
  


Matthew could not make the person out -- whatever it was blended in well with the night, and the light was non existent. 

Then there was a light, a deep red light, radiating like coals from those eyes. 

  
  


Matthew sucked in a breath in terror. Both paused, and looked at each other. No one dared to move. Matthew felt frozen, terrified! 

  
  


The eyes vanished, and there was a scrambling noise in the tree over his head. There was a snap, and the sound of rushing air. Matthew looked around him curiously. 

No one to be seen. 

Matthew sighed. Having had enough adventure for one night, he continued back to camp. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


After the sun rose, it was much easier to search for the mysterious person. Unfortunately, Matthew found nothing. He even looked for prints of the person he had seen in the mud and twigs. All he found was a strange looking three toed bird-like marks larger than his hand. He thought it might have been better to have shown it to Mike and Keturah, but when an snowy white owl appeared on an overhanging branch, Matthew could not help walking away from the mark for a moment. When he realized he had moved away, he looked back, but the print was gone. 

And so a few days went by, and Matthew found himself forgetting his strange night-ghost. Instead he spent his time working to cope with a camp out while trying not to miss Christine. 

Yet, every day Matt returned to the spot where he had seen the mysterious dark figure. Even his own tracks vanished after a day, and Matthew began to wonder if someone was obscuring his tracks... 

.....or their own. 

Just after dawn one early morning, Matthew climbed out of the tent before Mike and Ket, and went for a walk on his own again. Mike and Ket were still asleep. He went walking along the top of one of the cliffs, just to watch the morning. 

There was a moist fog in the wood, and it hung in-between the trees. The sunlight coming through small windows in the overhead canopy made beams of light through the air. 

Matthew stopped at the edge of the cliff to admire the view. Here, the cliff was hundreds of feet high, part of a round valley. The trees parted a little here, making a pool of light around the cliff's edge. It was not a straight drop, but there were thousands of rocky crags, like an assortment of thousands of shapes of stone building blocks just thrown down the side of the mountain. The colors were all the same for the most part except when something grew on the old rocks like moss, lichens, or small plants. All a constant tawny color... 

Except for one. 

That one rock caught Matt's attention, suddenly drawn to it. There, on top of one of the leveler surfaces was a large stone of grayish white -- hinting of blue. Intrigued and fascinated, Matthew carefully climbed down the rocks to the odd colored one. 

There was a difficult ledge here, one that no one could climb down. However, Matthew found small holes in the cliff face, staggered at regular intervals like steps of a ladder, holes small enough to barely allow Matthew's hand to hold them. 

The stone was very oddly shaped, he observed as he drew nearer. In fact... it wasn't just a rock... Matthew examined it's features as he drew near enough to touch it with utter fascination. 

It was a statue of a little girl! She was crouched down on the rock face, with a face turned to the east with an expression of horror at the direction where the sun now was rising in the early morning sky through the canopy of trees. 

She had three toes on each of her feet, with large claws on the ends. Her hands, laid atop the rock face, had three long, sharp edged fingers and a thumb on each one. She had small horns on either side of her forehead, like a two-sided crown. Her hair seemed to be frozen in small, uncut waves. There was a filament of stone between her arms folded against her side, running to the side of her body, with a thickened ridge down it's middle, attaching under her arm. She had a long tail from the base of her back, running over the edge of the rock side. 

Matthew admired the stone figure for a moment with wonder. It was a lot smaller than he, about the size of his sister Ket. 

He felt drawn to her, as though she were somehow real. There was something about her that Matthew simply could not name. Something... beautiful. 

  
  


A shot rang out across the forest. Birds and crows in the early morning were heard calling in the distance. The repercussion of the blast of the hunter's gun reverberated in the rocks. 

Matt blinked. Wasn't hunting illegal here? Oh well. THAT sound had probably gone for miles. He didn't even bother to look around -- the shooter was probably far beyond the search of his eyes in this place. Someone else would find the gunman today. 

Then, silent and low at first, another sound came to Matthew's ear, growing and growing until he realized he was hearing a dull rumble in the rocks beneath him. 

Matthew began to be pelted by pebbles and small debris rolling down the side of the mountain. Then there was a loud crack. More pebbles began to patter him. Matthew looked up to the source of the sound. 

A large chunk of stone began to slide down the hill rolling sideways along a pathway of stone. It was bigger than the group of them! 

It was coming his way! 

Matthew was about to bound out of harm's way, when he suddenly remembered the stone figure. If he abandoned it, it might be crushed! Desperately, Matthew looked around for help. There was no one in sight. 

With no time to think about it, Matthew raced over, threw his arms around the stone girl, and heaved with all the strength he possessed. 

The stone did not move, but remained but solidly on the rocks. 

Matthew heaved again with no result. 

The rock hit the stone just above his head. He had to move now! With a sudden rush of adrenaline, he began to lift the stone girl just enough to slide it off the rock face. 

Matthew fell down a few rocks with the stone girl bouncing atop of him as though he were a pillow, as he slid down the hillside a few feet to one side, on his back. The stone girl crushed into him. 

The massive boulder smashed onto the place where they had been but a fraction of a heartbeat before. 

With a bone breaking thud, Matthew hit the new stone ledge below. The stone girl crushed into his chest with deadly force. Matthew screamed as his ribs snapped under her weight. 

Struggling with all his might and strength, he rolled the stone girl off him. 

She was set down onto the new rocky surface with a small puff of dust. Matthew tried to sit up as he cried over his burning shoulders and chest, lost his balance on the cliff top, fell off one edge, and plummeted down the eighty foot drop that awaited him. 

He screamed once -- a sound lost in the morning air, drowned out by the cry of the eagle soaring overhead. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Mike was angry this time. 

When the ranchers could not find the boy that night, the police were brought in the following morning. There were no witnesses. Young Matthew had only stepped out of bed early in the morning, and something had happened to him. The police found what they thought was a hidden blood mark on a stone terrace beneath an eighty foot cliff on a steep nearby hillside. 

When Mike found the site, he found much more than that. Atop the cliff were small shards of Bluestone. Upon finding this, his fists clenched and his pulse quickened. 

Those monsters again! Mike smashed the stone pieces and ground them under his foot. THOSE CREATURES HAD KILLED HIS ONLY SON! THOSE MONSTERS HAD TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM HIM! THEY WOULD PAY FOR THIS IF MIKE HAD TO GO OUT AND HUNT EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM DOWN!!! HIS WIFE, HIS OLDEST DAUGHTER, NOW HIS ONLY SON! THE GARGOYLES WOULD PAY FOR THIS! 

  
  


In the squad car, Ket could only watch and cry as two police women with blonde and silver hair took photographs of the blood splatters, while a third with black hair documented them. 

Ket was left alone with her tears throughout the entire day. 

  
  


* * *

With the setting of the sun, Christine suddenly roared in fury, something that sounded to her own ears like a tiger's hiss and roar. 

She stretched, flaring her wings. 

Hopefully tonight would be easier going than last night. It had taken them only a few weeks to cross from Utah, through Colorado, and into Kansas before. However, going across Arizona, Nevada, and then into California had taken many times longer, and Christine had lost count of the number of weeks. Part of the problems was feeding this group - Gargoyles had to eat, and boy did they, and to feed their party, a lot of hunting was necessary. Mandy, however, made do with truck stops and credit cards. 

Phantom still maintained that it had only been a month and a half since they had left the "Hot Water" Allsworth Ranch in Arizona. Sharm continued to vanish without warning on some occasions, just as mysterious and impossible as the three gargoyle sisters who claimed rookeryship with Phantom. Macaren always seemed to try to find any excuse to be near Christine, attention which she found highly uncomfortable. Why did he pay so much attention to her anyway? She much preferred Phantom's company -- he was the only one who really acted like the gargoyles they had met in Arizona -- the only one Christine suspected to really be a gargoyle while all the others -- herself unwillingly included -- masqueraded as them! 

The Weird Sisters never spoke of Christine's metamorphosis, nor anything that would help explain all the subtle hints and mysteries surrounding their adventure. They mostly spoke of menial tasks that needed to be done, or else spoke such incomprehensible Middle English that Christine was forced to admit she could never possibly understand them. In addition she could not deny the fact that the Weird Sisters did NOT like her. She'd heard the word "Oberon" thrown around a lot. While she understood the literary significance of the name, these three seemed to attribute him as the sole reason they were even on their side to begin with. The sisters were never angry, and usually did not even pretend to understand the meaning of the issue. Being around THEM was a lesson in humility. 

Phantom was the only one she thought she understood. Steady type, a bit rough perhaps, lightning short and murderous temper, but extremely loyal. He never seemed to get angry at Christine -- no matter what the argument. 

At last, it seemed, their small clan was nearing it's destination. Sharm appeared once, and even volunteered to do the dishes one night. This, of course, took less time than it took her too look at them, and she made no mystery of the fact that she had used her abilities to complete the task. 

The Weird Sisters were also violently opposed to helping on one minor issue - carrying Mandy via Piggy-back. Mandy began to feel unwanted and began to talk about going back to her college studies in Salt Lake City. The Weird Sisters never seemed to break a sweat as they carried gear in the flight, and they noticed that the others seemed to have difficulty. Tonight, Christine carried Mandy instead of any of the others, while Macaren and Phantom were free and the Weird Sisters carried most everything else. 

Never in Christine's life had she felt this much freedom to move. Schedules were irrelevant. There was no test at the end of class. Nobody cared if she got up early -- she couldn't! Nobody cared if she played on the ground. She had never seen so much of the world. Of course, things looked different through infrared eyes in the middle of the night, but she didn't care -- it's not like she ever COULD see in the dark before, and she liked it. 

There was an exhilaration when she was gliding. She held herself up, and with a tilt to her upper wings, she raced forward with the speed of a darting hawk. It excited her. She was finally getting into gliding! Just like she had always dreamed of doing! Staying up here all night with nothing she had to do but glide, glide, and glide. At first it had been monotonous, but now she had learned to love every minute of it. She was no longer bound to the earth, but was now beyond it. She lived for the caress of the wind across her legs and through her wings. It was a sensuous feeling as her sensitive skin picked up all the subtle air movements as she swam joyfully in her sensory bliss. 

However, tonight was different. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It pricked her skin, and made her nervous. Phantom sensed her anxiety, and glided closer to her. "Nervous tonight, are we?" 

"Yes, brother." Christine replied in the style the Weird Sisters did -- Christine loved how infectious their archaic mode of speech was, and used it all the time. "Something foul is amiss tonight." 

"Indeed?" Phantom asked. "Your senses then are keener than mine. I feel nothing out of the ordinary." 

As the continued that night, Selene suddenly shouted "Look!". There, on the horizon, a range of mountains began to appear. 

"The San Andreas, no doubt." Macaren commented. 

The raven-haired Phoebe made the triumphant announcement. "The woods we seek lie on those mountains." 

"Let us make camp then, dawn is coming. We will enter those hills upon the sundown on the morrow." Phantom suggested. He was sort of the unofficial leader now, because everyone looked at the steady male gargoyle seeing leadership and direction -- even the green skinned trio. 

  
  


Upon entering the woods, the gargoyles dived underneath the branches, and found themselves in a dark world of utter serene and quiet. Only crickets made any sound in the air, the winds here were mild, warm, and easy to navigate around, the tree trunks were large, and the limbs jut out. They soon found that a pathway in between the trees and limbs had been cut high up at the gliding level, forming a labyrinth of twisting passageways over roads and various forest paths. 

"Who could have cut these?" Phantom wondered. Christine had a guess, but she almost immediately discounted it -- and remained silent. 

Christine just stopped to enjoy the quiet as they winded down the paths that Phantom cut on a general course northward along the wood. They were so high up the trees, no human could ever notice them. 

The stillness of the night was broken by a shill cry. The gargoyles suddenly pulled up short, hanging in mid air for a moment. 

Christine suddenly dived, Phantom shortly following, and everyone trailing after that. Mandy clung to her ride for dear life. She knew better than risk falling off when her gargoyle friend had forgotten she was still there. 

There, part way up a cliffside, a small blue skinned/blue haired gargoyle girl scrambled to the side of a slightly older human boy who lay at a cockeyed angle on the cliff top with dried blood pooled around him. He appeared to have fallen a great height from a higher ledge. Christine and the others watched her. It was the small gargoyle girl who had cried out. The little girl picked up the little boy, taking him onto her back, and flew off into the night with the heavier body on top of her. The Weird Sisters turned and followed. Christine shrugged, and followed them. 

The new gargoyle wove skillfully through the twisting forest air-paths as though she knew them by heart, deftly spinning her arm-wings to allow her weave in and out of trees with her heavy cargo. Finally, after many twists and turns, she suddenly entered a large, enclosed space among the branches, here, she slowed, and came to a halt. 

It was an enormous room, with branches for ceiling, wall, and floor, interspersed with occasional leaves. 

"This is truly a magical place." Christine muttered half to herself, half to Phantom, as she came to perch on the floor. The others of her clan followed, and did the same. 

The little girl laid the small human down upon the floor, and knelt by him. 

Other gargoyles emerged from the darkness, and began to gather about them anxiously, talking in low voices. They got in Christine's way, and she could not see the boy or the gargoyle girl. 

"Who are you?" Christine asked. No one saw fit to answer her. 

A white owl flapped into the room, circling about Christine and her clan, then to perch next to the small girl and human, it's form shifting to that of a blue haired, violet eyed fay girl, sitting cross legged on the ground. The fay knelt beside the girl, and ran her fingers through her hair. 

"Tigris? What is this you've found?" she inquired. Tigris looked up at her mentor with large, watery eyes. 

"Is he dead, Cassie?" she asked with a sad, child-like innocence, running a talon delicately through his messy brown hair. 

Cassandra knelt before the limp human form, touching his chest lightly. "There is a breath of life within him. His spirit has not yet left his body." 

Tigris looked at Cassandra with pleading. "Please, Cassie! You must save him!" 

"I cannot, child. I am forbidden to change the course of any mortal's life. Oberon himself forbids it." she replied, mourning. 

Tigris continued to plead, "There must be something you can do!" 

"Why?" Cassandra regarded Tigris for a moment, as if gauging her dedication. 

"He... saved my life during the day... and lost his own." she almost wept. 

Cassandra then glanced up at the three sisters as if asking them for their help. "Even Oberon himself would grant a boon for such mercy." 

Christine scowled at this, and forced her way forward through the press into the fay's view. "Excuse me, but even these three didn't seem to care when they did THIS to me!" Christine added loudly, like an announcement. Many heads turned to her. 

Phoebe, Luna, and Selene smirked. 

"If you would have preferred..." Phoebe began. 

"...we could have left you to..." Selene continued. 

"...die in the car accident." Luna concluded. 

Christine glowered at them. Cassandra decidedly removed a small silver handled dagger from her belt, and held it before her. She slit her wrist. Cassandra let the blood drip down onto the little boy's shirt, letting the human's skin absorb the magic into his own veins. The cut on Cassandra's wrist immediately faded and vanished. The blade twinkled with the thin stripe of fay blood on it, as she held it before the boy. ****

"No longer human art you now   
old blood drained away   
my blood within your heart   
my brother you become   
young as thou art   
you have an agile heart   
as time rolls by   
you must never forget   
the treasures you shall   
loose eternally this day.   
So bear upon thee   
a token to recall   
at evening's fall   
of the pact   
you and I form   
this day.   
Forever bound   
by blood alone   
and the head and wing   
of the high headed eagle   
that calls your name   
thou shalt bear   
eternally in memory   
until this blood   
and your heart   
have been shared   
with another."

Tigris's face lightened. 

With the end of the spell, the boy shimmered and glowed under her power for a few moments before the spell ended. The weird sisters nodded their approval. Sharm was positively beaming. 

"Now that the child shall live again," 

"But he will curse thee for years to come." Phoebe cautioned. 

Cassandra considered that for a moment, then clasped her hands under her chin and batted her eyes. "But I live a long time." 

Selene nodded. "You have tarried far too long about your mentor, young Cassandra." she muttered. 

"What?!!!" Sharm demanded defensively, "What did I do?" 

Cassandra smiled at her old teacher, and bent next to Tigris. "If he wakes, give him space, and tell me immediately. He will be shocked, confused, and even angry without guidance." 

Tigris bore a confused but elated expression, yet nodded solemnly. Christine looked down at the boy that had inadvertently caused so much fuss. 

She drew in a sharp breath. It was impossible! How could he be here? Wait -- her family still thought her dead, didn't they? What would be more natural for Daddy, than to take Matt and Ket on a camping trip? Except... she thought in frustration, she wasn't dead! She crouched beside the boy, a tender pain-ridden expression visible on her lovely features. 

Phantom came up behind her, and placed a paw on her shoulder. "What is it, Christine?" he asked with gentlemanly concern, "Are you alright?" 

With a choked sob, Christine began to cry against Phantom's shoulder. "It's... he's my brother!" she managed to stutter in his ear. Phantom held her gently in a brotherly way until she was finally finished. He noticed the little girl, Tigris, who was looking up at the pair with a questioning expression on her face. 

Tigris held a paw on the boy's forehead, and was crouched clumsily in a defensive position, like a child mimicking it's parents. Christine turned, and noted Tigris's protective posture and stance. "It's alright." she murmured comfortingly. "I'm his sister." 

Tigris looked at her disbelieving. "You look too old to be his rookery sib. Besides, is he not human? You could not possibly have a relation." 

"Matthew is my blood-brother." she replied softly. 

"How is that possible? For a human d..." Tigris asked again, but an older, larger gargoyle interrupted her. 

"Humans!" The new gargoyle spat. "Little Tigris was fooling around and got caught. Before you know it we'll all fall prey to those murderous dogs! Why waste your breath on him? He's just another stinking worthless human -- better off dead..." 

Tigris cringed under the rebuke, but would not be so easily shaken. Their eyes glowed at the newcomer. Christine stared at this new gargoyle in shock and rage. "I AM HUMAN! Or at least I was... once." 

"Cassie thinks he is important!" Tigris flung hotly, struggling not to cry. 

"Cassandra is a fay. She knows nothing of gargoyle ways, or the ways of our clan -- the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir!" 

Phantom jumped up, eyes glowing with rage, about to defend the girl if the irate gargoyle so much as neared her. Suddenly there was a voice from behind them, cutting them off. 

"Back off, Gerom! Not all of us are of your prideful little Clan. Stop acting like a fool and a bully. You know nothing about Cassandra, only that she has been gracious enough to allow your clan of hunted refugees to this sanctuary. Only a bully picks fights with those who are younger." 

The speaker said this calmly, with no anger in his voice as he approached them, no fire in his eyes. He was a brownish-red gargoyle with dark blue eyes and black hair. His build was nothing impressive, but he looked quite agile and capable. Christine decided immediately that he liked him. 

The one called Gerom bristled under this new rebuke. "A fool am I? You certainly have a lot to say for one who hasn't seen the outside of this forest -- who doesn't know what it's really like out there! Humans enjoy boasting of brutally murdering their brothers and sisters -- enjoy cruelty like some kind of game! Humans have no honor whatsoever! They hold their brother's lives completely without value. They are the monsters, not us!" Gerom's eyes smoldered menacingly, "I would be careful, Steve, I am a dangerous person to be trifling with." His statement was well justified in the fact that he was almost half again the height of Steve and twice his size. 

Steve was singularly unimpressed. Phantom had the impression that this type of exchange between the two was not uncommon. 

"SILENCE!" Cassandra roared, glaring at Gerom, who took an unconscious step backward. She then completely ignored him again, turning her attention to Sharm. 

"Delightful, isn't he?" Sharm's voice came drifting back to Phantom. 

Steve, meanwhile, had moved beside Tigris, holding the young one's spiked shoulders. He looked at the human boy. "Excellent choice," he mimicked, for Tigris's benefit. 

"Steve Martin, right?" Christine guessed timidly. Steve nodded so, smiling. 

"Steve can do all sorts of voices," Tigris announced proudly, gazing up at Steve with just a touch of idolism. Gerom glowered at Tigris's approval of the member of the other clan. 

Steve blushed and looked bashfully up at Christine and Phantom. "Where are you from?" he asked curiously. 

"Ummm... Salt Lake." Christine answered after a moment's hesitation. 

"Really? Are there many more gargoyles in Salt Lake?" 

Christine blinked. "Not to my knowledge." 

She appeared as if she were about to ask more, but when the sounds of stirring from the fallen human boy arose, all attention turned to him. Tigris lifted the boy's head up. Christine and Phantom leaned over him, and the other members of the two clans fetched the attention of the forest clan's prominent fay woman. 

Matthew stirred into consciousness with a groan. Christine touched the side of the small boy's face. "Matthew?" she asked tenderly. 

"I'm... I'm alive..." he breathed with wonder and amazement. 

"Are you alright, Matthew?" Christine asked softly. Cassandra appeared at Christine's side. Matthew seemed to know Christine's voice, though he had not yet opened his eyes. Cassandra nodded to Christine to continue to talk to Matthew. Christine nodded. Tigris pursed her lips and cradled Matthew's head. 

"Ch... Christine? Is that really you?" he asked hopefully. 

"Yes, Matt. Some things have happened to me, but I'm alright. I'm not dead." Christine answered, with love. "How do you feel?" 

"Kinda relieved. Like coming out of a lot of pain -- or an anesthetic." he breathed. Christine smiled. "What happened?" 

"Why don't you tell me? We barely brought you back as it is. Why are you out here? Did you guys change plans after I... left, and decide to go camping?" 

"Yeah, we were trying to... forget you." 

"F... forget me?" Christine's voice wavered. Phantom touched her shoulder, steadying her. 

"Your funeral made us all so sad -- we really miss you." Matt's voice became excited, just to tell her the story. 

"F... funeral? My funeral?" 

"Uh huh... we had your... body... buried next to mom's. Dad said we should go camping, and I was out hiking, and found this weird statue of a little kid with a tail, and then there was this rockslide, and the statue almost got smashed, and so I had to move it, but I think my foot slipped..." 

Matt's long narration trailed off. He twisted his body, and opened his eyes. He was met by near total darkness, until Cassandra clapped her hands and a small orb of light appeared above Matthew's head, illuminating the room. 

Matthew gasped and jerked away. 

"CH... CHRISTINE?!!!" he gasped, staring up at her pink horned face flanked by two pairs of pink wings. Anxiously, Christine caped her wings, and knelt beside Tigris. 

"Yes, Matthew. Listen to my voice -- it's me. This is the little girl whose life you saved... who has played a great role in saving yours in return." Christine nodded to Tigris. Tigris meekly extended a paw to meet Matthew's hand when he recognized Tigris as the little stone statue, and extended his hand to her. There was a light handshake for a minute, both feeling each other's hands more than shaking. 

"Hi." Tigris said, quiet and shy. 

"Th... thank you." Matthew replied. "Christine?" 

"What is it?" 

"What... are you? What are they?" 

"We are gargoyles -- except for some which are really fairies." This last was nodded toward Cassandra. "We won't harm you. We're going to help you get better. If you don't believe we're real, just shake our hands, like you did Tigris's paw." 

Cassandra whispered something into Christine's ear. Matthew needed some sleep now. 

"Why did you leave?" Matthew asked. 

"I didn't want to, Matt, but I'm with you -- at least for now. I'll tell you the whole story after you get some more sleep." 

Matthew smiled, and immediately nodded off -- possibly thanks to Cassandra's magic nudging him to. 

Christine sighed and picked up the boy, carrying him deeper into the "glade" (as she later learned this building was called by the native gargoyles), following Cassandra's lead. The clan of Christine's friends followed. 

Christine turned to Sharm. "How long until we have to leave here?" 

They entered a large room with a few rows of cots, blankets and quilts. Sharm flopped down on one, and waved Christine off. Sharm had large rings of weariness under her eyes. 

"Oh... I don't know... go ask those three blasted fates." 

Fates? The Weird Sisters? Christine shrugged it off, laid Matthew down in one of the cots, and turned to the fay triumvirate. 

Without Christine mentioning the question to them, Phoebe replied. "This is our business -- for now." 

"Good. Who makes our schedule, anyway?" 

"Oberon." 

Christine settled herself to wait on a small stack of quilts. 

After about fifteen minutes had passed, and the others of Christine's clan were working to fit in among the other clans here for a while, one of the members of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir came up to Christine. "Malcora? Is that you?" he asked. 

Christine looked up at him. He was a very elderly gargoyle, looking right at Christine. Christine approached him. "Do I know you?" 

"Are you the one called Malcora, who served the immortal one?" 

Christine scowled, wishing she remembered everything Malcora did. "I was... once. Who are you?" 

"Ah, child. Then I am your nephew Talavon." he said. 

"N... nephew? How?" Christine stuttered with lack of comprehension. The old, light-blue gargoyle with thinned out hair and small, shrunken bones that marked extreme old age, looked at Christine very sharply. 

"Do you not remember me? Your brother's son! We thought you had died when I was but a bare hatchling..." 

"WHAT?!!!" 

  
  


* * *

May 1648 

Drake Castle, the Isle of Man 

  
  


With the final setting of the sun, the gargoyles burst from their stone forms. Watching, Terra Christine Shelton thought to herself of how she would never bore of this moment. The large blue male gargoyle next to her took a step down from the parapet, and gently took Terra's hand. 

"Good evening, my love." the gargoyle said. 

"Good morning to you, Padrecor." she replied, resisting the temptation to call him "bright eyes". "Sleep well?" 

The large young male took the human woman's arms. "I always do, my angel." 

Terra produced a small box from the hem of her high-cut leather tunic and breeches, and held it before him. 

"What's this?" Padrecor asked. 

"A seal." 

"A seal?" 

"Yes. You wear it to prove that you wish to be my mate." Terra said, brightly, with a few hints the line had been rehearsed a few thousand times in the last few hours. 

The gargoyle, wide eyed, stuttered. "But... my love? Do you not still mourn for your children? Am I not younger than thee, though in years I have five years on you?" 

Terra looked down at the stones of the castle beneath her feet, as though her leather boots had suddenly become very interesting. "Yes... I will always miss Mike, Christine, Matthew, and Keturah. However, if I do not learn to go on with my life, I shall never live it and die inside! I simply cannot deny my love for you in the place of my mourning!" 

The gargoyle took her chin in one talon, lifted her gaze back to his face. "Very well then, my love." Padrecor placed the ring on his finger. 

Terra, smiling now, drew her arms around the gargoyle's neck, and they shared a kiss. 

Then, after a long moment of this, Terra burst down the stairs in jubilation, to the dark interior of Drake Castle. There, Sharm caught hold of her robe, hanging in the air, waiting for her. 

"Well, did it work?" 

"Oh, I've always wanted to be the one posing the question!" she replied. It will be sooooooo wonderful!" Terra replied with excitement. 

Sharm smiled. "I've already got your wedding dress and present picked out. How do you think you would look in red, my dear?" 

"Red? For a wedding?" Terra asked in confusion. "The dress or the gift?" 

* * *

All the gargoyles were lined up like living sentinels on each side of the room, standing at respectful attention. The Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir's immortal female leader stood at the head of the room, scowling at Terra as she entered the room. "Humans and gargoyles do NOT intermarry!" her expression seemed to say. However, Sharm stood next to the Demon woman, crying tears of happiness. Between them, Sharm's exuberant happiness canceled out the evil glare of the gargoyle queen. 

Her gargoyle love stood at the pulpit, uncomfortable in his green tunic and leggings cut for a gargoyle -- he thought he looked silly in them (Terra found him strangely cute). Sharm swept down from the dais to take Terra's arm and escort her down the aisle. 

Terra tapped the fay woman's shoulder. "I thought Prince Stephen was going to give me away?" 

"Don't be silly, midear." Sharm scoffed. "You're my pet!" 

  
  


During the ceremony, Terra's excitement tingled in her, setting her blood on fire, until she forced herself to stop trembling. 

"I do," said one. 

"I do," said the other. 

When her love, Padrecor, lifted her veil, his face became so awed Terra did not know what to think. What was going on? 

"My love... you are so beautiful..." he breathed in wonder. 

Terra blinked, and felt a tingling sensation as he gently caressed her horns. 

  
  


Horns? 

  
  


Terra gasped in surprise at the feeling, and touched her hands to her hair, and found her two, long slender horns. Only her hands weren't hands, but four taloned paws! She felt her enormous double spread red wings, long, lithe, supple tail, barbed elbows and knees, and taloned feet, taking in for the first time, her cherry red flesh, and her strong, toned muscles. 

She gasped in astonishment... her voice was younger and more vibrant. Padrecor was now barely taller than she! She was young!... 

She was a gargoyle. 

Sharm was positively beaming. 

Terra was so elated she jumped up to kiss and embrace her new mate. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


She felt the edge of her little world with a new intent. She thrust her talons up through the moist edge of her little world. As she struggled, she felt her feet become freed, and her tail was tingling with a blast of cold air. 

Her tail? 

Now, since when did she have a tail? Somehow this seemed incorrect. Why had she only four talons? Why did it seem she should have five? 

The magic swept the memory from her mind. 

She continued to knock away the barrier, until suddenly there was a new sensation, one of being lifted up by large paws. These paws wiped away the slick cool juices which clung to her body. These hands held her fresh leathery skin soothingly. 

Somewhere beyond, if only she could hear, she would have heard the small voice speaking her name. "Christine... oh my precious baby. You are such a beautiful little gargoyle..." 

The young Malcora wailed. 

* * *

Hand in hand, the couple watched over the eggs. The tall blue father waited, not minding the passage of time, with his wings wrapped around his red-skinned, double winged mate, Tutela. 

Tutela shifted, and sighed contentedly in her mate's wing's embrace. His wings felt so warm, and his touch was so tender. 

When Sharm had told her she would see Christine soon, Tutela, as she was now called by the Spanish ambassador, had not believed her. Now that she knew, she looked on the egg with tremendous stress. Sharm was so careless with time! With her family's lives! For in that egg, she had learned, grew Christine's spirit within a gargoyle body! 

Sharm, however, would not say why she had be forced to do it, only reassure her that history was immutable and therefore this would change nothing. She was unwilling to tell Tutela that the child that had occupied the space before had lost it's inherent magic, and was about to die, causing Tutela to miscarry. Sharm could never have let her pet suffer that pain again, and brought Tutela her most beloved daughter from the moment after she was conceived -- far in the future, brought her back, and placed her within the empty shell that occupied Tutela's womb, rejuvenating the small form to life. It seemed the best way to obey her orders and help Tutela at the same time. 

So, with much more than just motherly concern, Tutela watched over her egg for ten years. Sharm had better know what she was doing, she thought! 

"Relax," Sharm had told her. "Since we have both seen her in the future, we know this story will play itself out properly. I will return Christine at the moment I took her, and she will live as she always did, human, just as you remember her. Certain things must come to pass in the future. Then, once she is old enough, we will allow her to remember this gargoyle life, and to return to her gargoyle form. For now, enjoy it. I shall watch over her, fear not." 

Tutela could hardly just relax. All it took was a poorly placed foot... 

Tutela shifted her stance in Padrecor's arms for a moment, running her talons through her mate's long white hair. This form had been Sharm's wedding present to her -- the powerful, fearsome, and mysterious body of a young gargoyle woman. Sharm certainly had an interesting sense of humor. Those minutes at her wedding had taken away half her age, because gargoyles age at half the speed she had as a human. Her new mate had looked at her with utter fascination, and discovered that his once older mate was now years younger than he -- and loved her even more for it. Even the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir's immortal leader grudgingly accepted the beautiful young gargoyle that had taken the place of the human woman, a truly incredible day. 

Whenever Tutela looked into the mirror, she loved the gargoyle she saw, twenty-three years old to a human. Gargoyles lived as stone for half of the time humans are awake and do not age as such, and even the years that had gone by carrying her gargoyle daughter, and waiting for her to hatch, had added but a few years to her age. Her true age was probably forty-something. 

She had been given everything she had lost back, with more in plenty, but at such a hard price to pay. She had beauty, a figure, enough strength to tear the side off an ocean liner, a "husband" of sorts, and her first hatchling -- Christine herself given new life. It all made her head ache... 

Tutela's mate had reminded her of the human, Job, a man who had lost as much, if not more than Tutela, and remained faithful, and received his life back ten-fold. 

The past still hurt for her, but she was content again. 

Or was it the future? 

A cracking sound prevented her thoughts from following that course. The enormous green and purple egg that had come from Tutela's body and lain in wait for a decade, now rocked quickly back and forth, with small light colored talons protruding from it's edge. 

Tutela cooed excitedly as her mate joined her at the side of the egg. She suddenly felt a burst of joy and love for her mate and the little hatchling. 

There was another crack when a pair of clawed feet burst from another part of the shell, stopping it's rocking motion. A delicate little tail fell from the hole the feet had made, unwinding. More cracks appeared, and the talons tore through the shell. 

The adults allowed the squabbling infant to fulfill it's destiny, and break free of the shell, before Tutela reached down and gently took the infant in her arms. It was such a tiny body for the eleven-year-old girl Terra had left behind, yet this was Christine. Tutela cleaned away the materials that had supported the life of her child, and held the infant close to her heart. 

* * *

"You filthy creatures," the human woman scorned, "Get out of my way!" 

Malcora motioned back her brothers and sisters, to allow the human to pass. Malcora bowed mockingly to the irate woman after she had passed, growling with glowing eyes. 

Her child had earned her name, Tutela reasoned. 

Malcora, the evil heart, always welcomed the immortal blue Queen of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, who humans hated and feared. Malcora kept company most often with her, and the terse gargoyle from another clan who wore the shame collar, Cearda, the sunset colored one. The immortal Queen seemed to always have Cearda and Malcora by her side now - she was the eternal sorceress, light blue in color, dressed in loincloths, gold jewelry, and a crown, with a mane of blazing red hair. She always wore her demeanor of glaring hatred for the humans. 

Despite her youth, Tutela all but joined her daughter. The gargoyle's humiliation at the human's hands had gone on for far too long. The gargoyles were little better than slaves now, lives without worth to be bought and sold during the day. Macaren and Lisonja had taken up human form to spy out the humans. Lisonja even courted the human noble, Sir Joseph, until Lisonja had left to scout out the humans elsewhere, and Sir Joseph's attention fell upon her gargoyle daughter. 

Tutela had many more eggs now, scattered among Malcora's rookery brothers and sisters. For now, there was peace and prosperity, if only to a point. Tutela hoped that it should not get worse. 

But why else had Sharm placed her at this Castle, so many years ago now? This castle was doomed to be destroyed either by it's gargoyles, or because of them. Tutela's name would be erased from history and die when this castle and it's humans burned -- but hatred was not in Tutela's nature. 

* * *

Malcora stood in chains. 

Normally she would have pulled and pulled against the chains until they gave, but now she followed her human captors like a lamb to the slaughter. 

The first hatchling of Malcora's blood brother stepped near to her, young Talavon. "What are they going to do to you, sister?" the child inquired innocently. 

"I've done a horrible thing." she answered in a small voice. "I believed a human was capable of love." 

The child was escorted out of the way, as the humans knocked her forward into the dirt again, chained her to the pole, and made the other gargoyles pile wood around her. 

Only one gargoyle did not resent it. Resplendent in his cloud- white skin, Sir Joseph the Gargoyle found himself in the embrace of the weeping red skinned gargoyle mother. 

"You always were a monster, then!" she accused, crying fitfully. "How can you say that you loved her? How will all gargoyles think of humans now? Loveless, angry demons?" 

Sir Joseph could not answer. He hadn't lied -- he still loved Malcora. 

"She is going to die because she loved you! Is your anger towards the girl who loved you, that deep? Look at me! Can you truly tell me I could never have been human? Are we truly so terrible that we warrant only your enmity? Malcora and I were both human once, also! Now you are going to have my only link to my human past tortured to death! I beg of you, Joseph, Love my daughter again! She has no one left who can save her! Look at me!" 

The sharp glower of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir's eternal red-haired leader viewed the proceeding execution with intense hatred of the humans, as plans were being made to exact revenge upon the humans about to torture to death one of her most loyal subjects. Sir Joseph had only to impress them... he had nothing to loose! He had only to show that he did love her... 

The humans set the wood pile ablaze, and Malcora became suddenly finalistic, her expression straight, peaceful, as her flesh began to sweat profusely. She looked once at her tearful mother, to the red maned queen and her sun-bright second. Cearda, the one with the gargoyle collar of shame about her neck. Their eyes met, filled with a strange peace. 

When her first cries of pain were heard, as the flames licked off her flesh, Tutela's talons dug into Sir Joseph's thick gargoyle hide as Tutela writhed in agony at the sound of her daughter's cries. Tutela also began to scream - she could not bear the sound, crying out with a mother's agony. When Malcora began to scream, Sir Joseph could stand it no longer. 

The other gargoyle mothers who had helped Tutela mother Malcora quickly circled around her, and held onto her as she wailed. Sir Joseph leapt from Tutela, spreading his wings, crashed through the fiery inferno, and took Malcora in his arms. Malcora yelped in surprise as she found herself freed, and in his arms. 

"Can you forgive me, love?" he shouted, just as they embraced, the flames began to eat away at them both, and their bodies turned to stone by the hidden fay's power. 

  
  


* * *

1996 

  
  


Christine lay on the floor of the glade, paws over her face, weeping intensely. Phantom touched her delicately to wipe away her torrent of tears, making her jump. "Are you hale, Christine?" 

She wept on. "I remember, Phantom. I remember Talavon... I remember Malcora... it's so terrible... what she went through... but you were so young then, Talavon!" 

"It has been three hundred years, Lady Malcora." the old one said, and was silent. He had not intended to evoke such emotion from her. 

"I was such a fool... a naive... stupid fool. I was Malcora before I was ever human... I never was a human... I always was a gargoyle, a true gargoyle... WHO AM I PHANTOM?!!!" Christine suddenly screamed, wrenching hold of his belt for his loin cloth. "AM I CHRISTINE OR MALCORA?!!!" 

Phantom bit his lip. Rats! Not now! He wasn't ready for this yet! 

A low moan from Matthew's cot awakened Christine's senses from her outburst of confused emotion, as he began to thrash about violently under the blanket that had been laid upon him. The muscles in his neck and back were beginning to tighten and release at odd intervals, and Matthew unconsciously tried to rub at them by moving his shoulders across the cot. Christine began to massage his shoulders, where the small buds were forming. 

Matthew began to softly mewl, like a newborn chick. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tigris swooped in with her catch of fresh meat clutched in her talons. She was an excellent hunter already, being taught by the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir to be a great warrior. Tonight, she dived in between the trees, descending to their secret camp. 

Christine was waiting for her, standing in a tree branch, and took the bloody wad from the small huntress. "Very well and good, Tigris. However this night was supposed to be my turn!" 

Tigris shrugged. 

Together, they glided down to the special camp that served as a cross between an asylum and a maternity ward. There, Matthew lay in a state of half recovery and half coma. Christine felt very sorry for him -- she had never had to go through this. He wasn't holding down normal food, but when Christine caught him halfway through an uncooked steak, that ended that. 

He was not in bed when they returned, but waiting in camp. He was very shy about his appearance now -- you really couldn't blame him. His skin tone had deepened to a strange color that can only be described as an ugly blue, darkening by the day. He bore half formed and half grown wings of a strange shape. His ankles were pointed, his fingers growing sharp talons, and his fifth fingers and toes had been reabsorbed. Lastly, his tail was only a few feet long. 

Christine sincerely hoped that a gargoyle/human hybrid would not look like this. Matthew's upper jaw had grown down over his lower lip, the start of a hooked beak. His eyes were unpronounced cat's eyes with blue irises. All his hair had long since fallen out, and small seeds of downy feathers were growing in their places, all over the boy's head and face. 

It had been nearly ten weeks since Cassandra's spell had been cast on him, saving his life. Now he was being grotesquely twisted and deformed by the slow change. Thankfully, Tigris was utterly devoted to remaining at her savior's side. At the same time, Matthew seemed to never want to do anything unless it was with her at his side. 

"Kinda like growing up." Christine thought. "We always need someone to lean on when the going gets rough." 

Christine missed Phantom, actually. His cool, calm, steady confidence was exactly what she needed at the times when Matthew fell into a another fit of internal spasms. Tigris acted as an envoy back and forth between their makeshift hospital, and Cassandra and the Weird Sisters. Sharm had, apparently, gone elsewhere, and Tigris delivered Mandy's message saying she was returning to college at the start of the new school year. It was a very quiet time for Christine, as she slowly adjusted to her double life. 

The ravens and crows seemed to flock around the camp, not for the food, but just to squawk at Matthew. At first he tolerated them, then yelled at them, but they would not leave him alone until one day he began to scream like an angry falcon at them (an ability Christine never expected to see in her younger brother). 

Then there was the dawn. Christine was now certain why humans did not turn to stone -- they weren't strong enough to break free of it. Every day, Matthew had seen his sister and friend freeze as stone statues when the sun rose. He was no stranger to fantastic worlds of books and movies, but living in them...? 

The first day Matthew turned to stone he hadn't been expecting it. Apparently, after a long, disappointing day, filled with boredom, misery, and failure, he had found himself laying by the lady gargoyle's feet, going into another spasm, this time a pain in his head. When it ended, he cried. He was so sick of hurting and going through it all. It was then that he suddenly found himself turning to stone -- reawakening in the evening with the females. He had been unable to move or break free of the stone shell. When Christine and Tigris saw him first, they saw the small, horrified stone-boy, and heard a muffled sound inside. Tigris bunched her fists, and smashed the stone, and Matthew broke free. 

  
  


Matthew was apparently cheerful tonight, and nodded his greeting to them this night. He noticed Christine's eyes betraying sadness. All of her time was being spent on Matthew, and she would not return to the others even for a moment. Christine and Tigris were growing bigger to him by the day -- obviously because he was getting smaller. Although he couldn't see it. Tigris and Christine could see he was getting slowly younger, the years slowly rolling away. 

Then it happened. Matthew clutched his stomach, and collapsed into Christine's arms. Young Tigris was instantly at his side. The changes were hardly ever noticeable -- like tonight. Tonight it was internal. For tonight, Christine asked Tigris to stay away until the fit of pain ended. 

Christine clutched her brother in her arms. Wriggle as he might, he could not escape the full-gargoyle's grip. Tonight, he shivered and writhed in agony as the changes in his anatomy went forward. 

After about an hour and a half of his wailing, the fit ended. Christine handed him the meat they had caught, and he accepted it weakly as he recovered. Shyly, he hid in his own secluded spot in the camp. 

He did not need to look into the pond's moonlight reflection to know what had happened to him. He was now built for an egg- laying species. Sickened and exhausted, he began to bite at the meat. He turned his back on the camp, and spread his yet meager wings behind him. He didn't want Christine to see his meals. He sank his talons into the raw flesh, bit all his razor-pointed teeth into it, and tore a hunk off viciously with his teeth, and began to eat hungrily. 

  
  


  
  


"What are you Christine?" the voice in her head taunted. "Human or gargoyle? Christine or Malcora? Who are you?" 

  
  


"Christine?" 

Startled, Christine jumped around to face the person that had just spoken, momentarily forgetting about her tail and slapping Tigris in the shins. Christine smiled apologetically at Tigris and waited for her to speak. 

"Umm... Matthew is asking for you." 

"Matt?!" In a flurry of wing and tail Christine was rushing towards the area set aside for Matt. When she are arrived she could see that he was crying softly to himself, clutching his face in fingers, that were becoming hard and pointed, puncturing holes in his face. Christine ran to him and pulled his hands away from his face and Matthew plummeted his head into her shoulder. 

"Christine, I'm so scared. I don't even know if I'm human anymore. I eat meat raw. My fingers... my teeth... my face." He pulled back and looked at her and she was able to more easily see the changes this metamorphosis had caused of late. His nose and mouth had been scrunched close together and his eyes were round, gold and pushed apart. It tore at Christine's very heart. Couldn't she at least spare him this pain? And what would she tell him about their mother? 

"Christine, I'm still human, right?" Matt's voiced was pleading and plaintive. 

"Well... I..." 

How can I answer that when I don't even know myself?!! 

"You are a gargoyle, Christine, but they are both part of you and each personality plays a part. Soon you will be your own person, someone who is neither Christine or Malcora yet is also Christine and Malcora. It will come. Have patience." Cassandra's voice floated down. 

Somehow, Cassandra managed to have all the semblance and air of a mother, yet still radiate her ethereal fay glow. Whatever she was doing here, now, while the clans were miles behind in the woods, Christine hoped that she was there to help them out with this problem... to help Christine out of her growing feeling of helplessness. 

Cassandra then turned to Matthew and was silent for a moment in her appraisal. "Yet I am afraid, young one, that you would not accept any answer that I could give. So I shall attempt to help you receive your own answer." 

Cassandra motioned dubiously in the direction of the wood. Matthew and Christine glanced at each other like past days of brother and sister, and turned to follow. 

The fay woman, alighting upon the forest floor like a graceful dance, approached a pool of water not more than a hundred yards down a particular trail. 

This pool was only a few yards around, and not very deep. It was a pool formed by fallen rain, and was very clear. 

Cassandra passed an arm over it, and Christine could almost feel the magic enchanting the water. 

"Come, look." Cassandra said. "In these waters, look upon yourself, and see who you truly are." 

Matthew, curious but dubious, looked into the water. He'd seen magic before, he'd been saved by it and it worked on him constantly in his process of changing. The pool reflected a dim crescent of a moon this night beyond the tops of the trees. However, as he was about to look in, he hesitated. 

He was afraid of looking at himself. His half formed mix between humanity and monsterhood was something he was not anxious to see again. However, he'd learned to trust Cassandra's eyes, and right now they spoke of reassurance beneath all that mystery that surrounded the leader of that Californian clan. 

Matthew looked. 

The image rippled slightly, and became that of a young gargoyle, a young gargoyle with no apparent gender. Matthew was entranced. The image shifted and wavered, until another gargoyle appeared. This one Christine did not recognize, a young female in her twenties perhaps as a human reckons a person's growth. His future mate, perhaps? His daughter? Christine found the foreseeing very confusing. A tear fell from Matthew's cheek - he probably knew what it meant. 

Curious, she leaned closer. She saw her own image. She was her present gargoyle self dressed in erotic, sensual clothing. Phantom stood there at her side. However, she could almost have sworn that there was a second image atop Phantom, almost human, yet with long pointed ears like Sharm or Cassandra. 

  
  


* * *

October 31, 1996 

  
  


Cassandra called a meeting, late after the sun fell, so that Halloween dinner was interrupted, and there were a few short tempers. The Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir sat on one side of the great hall (including Malcora's family), the clan Cassandra protected sat on another. Decidedly smaller than the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, and smaller yet was Christine's clan, which just sat in one corner, Cassandra's gargoyles seemed to have a kindness about them tonight that Christine would always remember. All three clans together hunted for food, scouted out their opposition, and protected their young. It had been a very educational experience for all present. 

Phantom still wondered how Christine was doing. Tigris had not come with news in over a week, and Phantom found himself, not only worried, but in fact deeply concerned if Christine, let alone her brother, were all right. Christine, Christine's brother, and Tigris were the only ones not present. 

Cassandra, flanked by three gargoyle-shaped Weird Sisters, stood before the assemblage. "Friends," Cassandra announced, "The California State Legislature has designated this land as no longer National Forest Land, but land for building on. In my far-seeing, I have seen two possible futures for us. Either we slay one of our own and leave him or her here for the humans to find, or we all leave here immediately." 

The gargoyles erupted with angry talk. Most wanted to know where they would go, as none of the clan would consider the first plan -- no matter how much fighting or enmity was between them. 

"Then there is no other choice, but to go." came a new voice, not a loud voice, but shaking enough to silence the tree-chamber. "I propose one clan stay here to defend this home, while the other move on to make a new one." 

All eyes turned to three cloaked figures at the base of the hall, each with three-toed feet emerging from beneath the cloaks. 

All gargoyles. 

As they removed their cloaks, Phantom recognized Christine and Tigris... and another teal colored gargoyle. Phantom blinked. The gargoyle had midnight blue to his skin also, shaded, and an eagle's head and wings. 

Matthew. 

There was a little noise of astonishment from the new gargoyle's appearing. He wore an animal's skin around his loins, stitched with leather strips into a gargoyle version of tight-fit pants. He also wore a robe with holes for his massive eagle-wings which were as big as he was. The robe was black, with what Phantom had learned were Japanese characters on it. 

Matthew's Karate Gi, as it turned out. Something he had scrounged from his bags before the Shelton family had left the forest, hunting for gargoyles as they came. 

"The best direction is to the north, where the sea and mountains will provide the best landscape for protection. Perhaps even Washington or Canada." Christine announced. 

Cassandra nodded. "Then it shall be so. Is all well, Christine? Are you hale, Matthew?" 

"Aye." Matthew replied in a small voice, looking down at his taloned-toes. "I am hale, milady." 

Phantom wondered how Matthew had picked up that mode of speech, but given his elder sister... 

"The transformation is complete, Cassandra." Christine replied for him. "I have been teaching him everything Malcora knew, and my brother has proven himself worthy, as I did three hundred years ago in test of courage and battle skill, to become one of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir. He and Tigris have chosen each other as wing-companions. Me and my companions must soon leave, to continue our quest. I would ask that the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, my clan of long ago, would still be loyal to me, and protect and guide my brother as long as I cannot be here with you." Christine's tone was natural, as Malcora spoke with Christine's voice. 

The Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir leader smiled, and nodded in agreement. "It is the least we can do for you, Malcora." 

Christine shook his hand. "Would this not put a strain on your lives? You are already hunted." 

"My father's birth-sister, we are clan, and we serve one another. That is the way of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir." Talavon added. "Even among gargoyles we are hunted, for every gargoyle who was a descendent of Tutela has been murdered by other gargoyles." 

Christine nodded. "I will continue with thee as long as I may. It is the least I can do." 

Phantom took her shoulders, gently. His expression was amazed, as he looked at her. "I'm okay, Phantom." she told him, weakly. "I'm both Malcora and Christine now. We... are the same - we are one." 

"Then what do I call you? Christine or Malcora?" 

Christine considered that, remembering the ghostly words her mother's sprite had wailed to her. "Though I am truly a gargoyle, and I was from the first, and my human life was only a miscreation of my gargoyle self, it is still freshest in my mind. Please call me Christine, as before. Christine Patya Shelton. If the very marrow of my bone could speak, it would say that no matter where my mind was first brought to life, these atoms - this body was born human first, and this gargoyle form is recent." 

Phantom smiled. "Yes, sister Christine." 

"You're a fool, you know that?" she told him, a twinge of Malcora in her voice. 

"I hoped so." 

Christine shook her head, chuckling. 

The Weird Sisters' combined response to all this news was a nod and a smile -- more than Christine really expected from the triumvirate. 

"These things you remember are good..." Selene said. 

"...but you still have much yet to know." Phoebe added dynamically. 

Christine was glad Sharm was not there, as she would most likely have bounced around in a circle like one of the Animaniacs for a few moments, at which point Christine would growl at her to go back to sleep, and Sharm would become indignant and go to sleep anyway. 

Macaren tried to sidle up to Christine. He placed a paw on her side under her arm and wings, and the other on her opposite hip. For several long moments his touch sent sensuous chills of excitement through her. 

Christine thought. Did she really love him? She thought she did, but for some reason it felt wrong... like it was not love, but only a lust. Christine turned, and touched the dark gargoyle's chest with her paw. She felt a swelling rise inside her, and she embraced him. "Oh, Macaren..." 

Macaren held her around her middle, touching her where she did not want to be touched. For a moment she just shrugged it off as something that the males did, but stopped herself. It just didn't feel right. 

Christine broke from his embrace. "I can't, my love... this just... isn't right..." Christine nearly sobbed, running out of the room, with one paw over her cheek, caping her wings sharply with an angry snap. 

Macaren watched her go -- not with a face of remorse, but of anger. 

  
  


Phantom found Christine at a Subway Restaurant just outside of a small farm town just outside the wood. She was savoring the taste of a turkey combo -- probably for the last time (at least until next Halloween). 

It was All Hallows Eve, and everyone in the store was dressed up. Although a few people looked at Christine with odd expressions, they didn't say anything. It was, after all, Halloween. 

When Phantom looked through the window to where she sat, he observed that she was crying, and there were still some tears on her cheeks as she made her way through dinner/breakfast. 

Phantom came in. A few eyes turned to him, but after recalling the other one at the booth, forgot about both of them. 

Christine didn't notice Phantom until he sat down across from her. 

"Oh... hi Phantom. Happy Halloween." 

"The same to you, Christine. Whatever is the matter?" 

"Macaren... he... I didn't... oh, it was terrible." Christine stuttered. 

"Tell me about it." he replied softly. 

Christine sniffed, wiping one cheek with a napkin. "Macaren... he... I remembered how much he meant to me... I thought he was everything... I realized he was just a... delusion Malcora had, trying to make herself feel better. He treated me like... like... like I was some sort of plaything... a fantasy... he didn't seem to care about who I was... all he wanted from me was... my beauty, my looks... my body... such as it is..." This last part was said bitterly. 

Phantom took one of Christine's paws, and held it. "How did you feel, overall, about your relationship?" 

"I... I felt really uncomfortable whenever he touched me here, or here... fingering my clothes and my skin..." Christine said, gently pointing out the places on her breasts and the insides of her thighs. "I don't know what made me like him..." 

"How do you feel about the rest of us?" 

"You and the others? Well, Mandy was great, though Malcora was really rude to her. The Weird Sisters, well they're always a necessary pain. Sharm's, well, Sharm, and I like having her around." 

"And I?" 

"You're... I dunno. I look up to you... a lot. From a distance, I'll watch you, and wish I could be like you. You always seem to know how to handle everything, always nice to me. You always treated me like a person, someone important, someone who cared. You were there when I needed you the most. I... I can't really say we share many of the same interests, but I love to be with you, to travel with you, and to hunt together. I'm... pretty comfortable being around you and the others... except Macaren." 

"Macaren's own will come. Don't worry." Phantom said, holding her hand tightly. 

Christine finished the last of the sandwich, and looked at Phantom. "Oh, I'm sorry... eating in front of you... Hey! How about we go to that late-night Ice Cream parlor I passed on the way down here?" 

"Ice... what?" 

"You'll see." 

  
  


"I gotta admit Mint Chocolate Chip is really good, but I prefer the Cookies and Cream, for some reason. I hate Oreos, so go figure right?" Christine chatted lightly, recovering from her moody bout. 

"O... what?" Phantom asked. 

"Nevermind. You like it?" 

"Mmmm... yes, I do. Thank you, Christine." Phantom said, tasting the spoonful with delight. 

"Where did you learn to use a spoon?" 

He paused for a second, as though he was searching for an answer. "Oh, I had a teacher a while back who used them." 

"I may be going out on a limb here, but could it possibly have been Sharm?" Christine giggled. 

"Among others." 

Christine raised an eyebrow, and stuck her spoon back into the single dish with two large mounds of ice cream on it that they were both eating from. Occasionally, they took stabs from the other's Ice Cream, and any humans who noticed the gargoyles would have been astonished at the high rate at which they ATE the stuff. 

"Well, that does it for the money I brought with me." Christine sighed. 

"We won't be much longer." Phantom assured her. 

"What does that mean? That we'll finish fighting evil fairies and I'll suddenly get to be human again?" 

"No, but..." 

"Good. My family thinks I'm dead, I pretty much lightly dumped my boyfriend by leaving, and the police could even link me with Matthew's disappearance. I'm not looking forward to rejoining the human race, Phantom. I was born a gargoyle first, and I intend to stay that way." 

Phantom nodded, smiling. It was Malcora talking. "And so you will." 

"Good." 

They ate on in silence for a moment. 

One of the other groups eating at another table had approached the counter for some reason or another. Phantom and Christine were utterly surprised when the group turned around and pointed guns at the two gargoyles. They were all dressed in white and black, what the gargoyles had shrugged off as costumes before, including black masks with red slashes across them. 

Phantom nearly swallowed the spoon, and Christine shyly lifted her hands into the air, eyes wide. 

"Hmmm... gargoyles out and about on Halloween? We have a city ordinance in this town that says you can't do that." 

Christine almost laughed, her initial fear fading. "City ordinance? What's your city council? Fairies?" 

They motioned with their guns. "Get up." 

"You guys like ice cream?" Christine asked, and threw the half eaten dish into a few faces. With the moment of distraction, Phantom and Christine sprung for the door, and heard the glass Ice Cream bowl crash behind them. Ear splitting gunshots echoed from behind them, and Christine felt hot, searing sensations on the surface of her skin in many places. Phantom went out the gargoyle way -- through the front window. Christine, eyes aglow, smashed her way through a flimsy wall made of dry rotting board. 

Christine suddenly screamed, as one shot pierced two of her wings simultaneously, and she collapsed onto the sidewalk in front of the store, in shock from the pain. Suddenly Phantom was there, picking her up in his arms, scaling the front of the store one handed, and taking off, into the night with her. 

The leader of the masked hunters watched them go with satisfaction. 

"Shouldn't we shoot them down, now?" 

"No, follow them. I want to know where the rest of them are." 

  
  


  
  


Matthew and Tigris were worried and concerned when they returned, and Phantom insisted that no one worry over Christine like mother hens. She would be perfectly normal after a day's stone sleep. 

Matthew seemed particularly distressed, so Christine, now the patient on the bed, talked to him. 

"Will you be alright without me for a while?" Christine inquired. "If I have to go?" 

Matthew sighed, and thought of young Tigris. "Yes, I'll be fine." 

Christine ran her talons through the little seven year old's newly grown downy feathers. "You're cute, you know that?" 

Matthew sighed, leaning on one elbow, looking at Christine. "As a gargoyle, you're beautiful." Christine blushed -- a cherry color on her pink face. 

"Well... uh... I guess that's in the eye of the beholder." 

The little seven year old version of her brother stretched out his four-taloned paws and yawned, his hooked beak stretched wide. A slight chirp escaped his throat. He touched his beak, startled the sound had come from him, and giggled. 

He even acted like a seven year old, Christine thought with jealousy. When did she get nine years taken off her age? Matthew was still talking to her. 

"I love you, Christine... Don't ever leave us." 

"I won't, munchkin. There's some... people like Cassandra looking out for me now. I love you too, squirt." 

Brother and sister hugged. 

  
  


* * *

August 16, 1998 

Southern Washington state 

  
  


When the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir reached the Columbia river, it was decided they should split up. Up until that point it had been agreed that avoiding all the humans had been top priority as they passed Salem and Portland. However, the cataclysm that had motivated this action was in the fact that the fay triumvirate had returned from their scouting mission with an urgent report -- something that was indeed unusual for the three fairy sorceresses. They returned bloodied and dirty, as though having seen battle. Christine suspected they were just showing off at first, until she heard the report. 

"Those that hunt the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir have returned and have discovered means of following us as we continue our journey." Phoebe reported, producing the torn mask with the tell tale red slashes across it. 

Phantom offered to try and use woodlore, or even sorcery and the magical scanner to try and cover their camps, but Talavon had a different plan. 

"No," Talavon instructed, "That is precisely what they expect us to do -- to continue to hide. No, let us break into pairs and fan out. Keep these hunters searching over a wide area, and give them many campsites to find as we move on. Be careful not to get caught, and remember there is safety in numbers. We are clan. Where should we gather?" 

"Mount Saint Helens." Christine put in. "A volcano with half it's top blown off? Only geologists are allowed within 5 miles of it. There are thick rain forests down below the mountain -- a perfect sanctuary for our clan. Almost straight north of here." 

Talavon smiled. "Excellent." 

Christine's eyes followed the shimmering Columbia river for a moment, lit by occasional red beacons used to navigate ships and barges up and down the mile-wide ribbon of reflected moonlight. Her eyes fell upon two silhouettes in the light from the river, two eight year olds who traveled together without fail. 

Matthew was adjusting well to his gargoyle life, simply being called "little eagle-brother" by most. It was clear to most that Tigris and Matthew would not be separated. 

He was young. He could still fit in. Christine sighed. She was still old enough to be his mother, and twice that had she actually lived to this age as a gargoyle lives. Christine would not have any such luck fitting in. 

She felt terribly alone, all of the sudden. 

* * *

By Phantom's reck, Christine had spent all of her time for that year or so with her ancestors and relations among the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, and not her own small clan. She was almost like a godmother to them, and she was endlessly curious to hear anything at all about the world Malcora had left behind. They were in the greatest danger of hunters, but the other two clans vowed to protect them. Christine's clan was, after all, no larger than a small hunting party. 

Tigris and Matthew had, of course, paired off together, and Christine had been left to choose between Macaren, Phantom, and one of the weird sisters. The Weird Sisters had chosen too, essentially, ignore Talavon, deciding they would not be subject to his rule, and traveled as their usual threesome. This left Macaren and Phantom. A hard choice. 

(After all, it wasn't like you could actually separate the three sisters...) 

Christine was spending a few more moments with Matthew before she left with Phantom. When Phantom nodded to her, the two groups broke apart, going slightly different directions. 

However, Christine felt uncomfortable and her tail twitched unconsciously with her nervousness. "Something's wrong... we've got to go back..." 

Phantom shook his head. Where on earth did she get these premonitions? 

A gunshot rang out. 

Then again, Phantom reasoned, her premonitions were seldom wrong. 

Christine banked immediately back in Tigris and Matthew's direction -- from where the shot had come. Phantom trimmed his glide, and shot down with her in that direction. 

  
  


The Hunters were a mob with torches and rifles in a disorganized array, speeding as fast as they could through dense forests on 4x4s, motorcycles, and other offroad equipment. Each donned a ski mask with the diagonal red slashes on it. 

They were trying to shoot down two tree-tied young gargoyles: Matthew and Tigris. 

Christine attacked with a terrible roar of fury from the rear, eyes aglow and fangs bared. Four men and a woman were tossed from their vehicles by the fury of her talons and tail. A twirling backsnap of a hind foot caught another man in his jaw. 

Christine dropped down to all fours, roared again, and scurried about like an insane lizard, slashing tires and smashing headlights. 

The hunters began milling about, shouting, shooting wildly, and sweating. Phantom entertained himself by smashing masks (and the heads inside them) together. These hunters were too used to hunting deer. 

When the hunter leader came into his view, he was cocking a second bolt. He was confronted by the pink gargoyle's compound bow, drawn and pointed at his side. 

The hunter turned. 

"Ah hah! At last, the pink one that murdered my Christine." he announced in a familiar voice, turning his weapon to face her. 

"What?" Christine asked aloud, loosening her stance slightly, the crimson anger from her eyes fading. 

"I've been looking for you for two years, you hideous thing! You killed my oldest daughter, and my probably my wife and son as well." 

"Daddy?" Christine asked, with a voice of fear and love. 

The hunter leader stopped, and shifted at the voice and name he though he'd never hear again. 

Christine loosened her bow, standing up. She was nearly a foot taller than him now. "Michael Shelton?" she asked, nodding. 

She approached him. 

Dazed with confusion, he did not react. Who was this beast? Why did she sound so much like...? 

Christine removed the mask from his face. A man with sandy brown straight hair like Matthew's had been before his transformation, stood before her. Matthew gasped from the tree above. 

"Daddy!" Matthew exclaimed, diving down to meet him. 

Mike Shelton, alarmed at the creatures converging on him, swung his weapon about, aimed at the closing eagle-headed creature with an intent on a welcome hug. 

"Cursed thing," he thought. Mike squeezed the trigger. 

Tigris cried out in alarm. Matthew pulled his wings up short, astonished. Tigris leapt. 

  
  


  
  


The bullet fired. 

  
  


  
  


One of the children screamed as the bullet passed through their chest. Phantom plowed into the back of the gunman. The hunter was thrown to the ground. The other men and women of the mob scattered in fear of the ravaging beasts. 

  
  


Matthew was crying. 

  
  


Tigris lay, bleeding profusely, on his lap. The young blue gargoyle had valiantly sacrificed herself for young Matthew. 

  
  


Christine held her own mouth, gasping in horror, as she scrambled to Tigris's side. 

"My eagle friend... my love..." Tigris breathed, fading fast. 

"Oh Tigris... I love you..." Matthew cried, softly, helplessly, and sweetly. 

"I... will always... be yours... my eagle..." Her breath faded, and young Tigris was silent. 

"Oh Tigris!" Matthew cried out, reaching over her, and wept over her body. 

Christine threw her head back in mad frustration and pain, and roared a long and loud call of fury into the night. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Beware, all ye dead. A worthy warrior of the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir now enters your presence. 

  
  


  
  


* * *

The Dreamer's footsteps echoed loudly on nothing, the click of her talons as if on marble. However, another ghostly sound held her attention rapt. 

Gentle strains of violin were carried on the wind; the sound was anxious, mysterious, and deep. 

A light appeared before the Dreamer, from some place unknown. The Dreamer beheld the bow sliding rapidly across the violin, playing a special strain. 

Hounded out by 

everyone! 

Met with hatred 

everywhere! 

No kind word from 

anyone! 

No compassion 

anywhere! 

  
  


But who's hand moved the bow? The hand had five fingers, with an ornate wedding ring with the initials TCS. The woman, clothed in white like an angel, shining in the darkness of the night, played the violin as the light fell away. 

  
  


* * *

Phantom could only stare, stunned, as Christine then grabbed her father's coat, and held the full grown man over her head. 

"I AM YOUR DAUGHTER, CHRISTINE PATYA SHELTON! YOU HAVE JUST SLAIN THE BEAUTIFUL, INNOCENT GIRL WHO LOVED YOUR ONLY SON MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF!" Christine snarled at him angrily, eyes ablaze, her viper's fangs dripping sweet poison. 

She could not kill him, no matter what he had done. Malcora would have bitten him immediately, with those magical fangs that she had grown after her first battle. However, she was more than Malcora now. 

Christine threw the dazed man against one of the Washington State's finest Box Elders, climbed another, and took to the wind with a mournful cry of despair. 

"Christine!... your father..." Phantom stuttered, as he struggled to keep up with her. 

"That man killed Tigris." Christine rebutted. "He is NOT my father any longer." 

* * *

Matthew Shelton cried long into the night. Perhaps he had lived no more than a dozen or so years in the world, but he knew he had loved her, because now his heart ached more terribly than mere words could describe. She had been his mentor and student, mother and daughter, every type of love he was capable of was made manifest in her. Even, perhaps, as a mate or spouse. 

If only mother were here, she would know what to do... how to make the ache in his heart go away. 

"It hurts, doesn't it?" a soft, adult voice asked. 

"It hurts so much..." Matthew said, crying, tears bathing the tunic of the small blue one. 

The human woman with the long, straight, ebony hair in the green, brown, and white tunic, stooped down beside him. "But ask yourself! What can you do? Can you make the pain go away?" 

"I can't do anything without her! The Clan... they'll kill me for this... and her father... oh no... it was my father that did this... they'll think I..." 

The woman's heart went out to the child. She plucked the small boy from the body, normally no easy feat for a human, but she'd had practice at this. "You can come with me. We are going somewhere very special, where the ache will go away." 

Matthew clung to the woman, crying over her shoulder. She shifted her quiver of arrows, familiar once again to the weight of a gargoyle child clinging to her. "Do you have a name?" 

"I... uh... *sob*... she called me eagle-child." 

"Very well, I too shall call you eagle-child. I am Lysander of the Kingdom of Lord Gorebash. You shall be welcome among us." 

* * *

Mike Shelton, stunned by the words he had heard, held a longing hand after his daughter after she fled. 

Before dawn came, a single figure, the shimmering form of Cassandra appeared in the empty glade, and found the body. She gasped in horror, calling the child by name. Urgently, she took the body, and vanished with her onto the incorporeal roads of the fairy. 

  
  


The following night 

  
  


"It was only the beginning of another story, child. You have little reason to weep for them." Luna assured Christine. 

"Will you watch over him for me?" 

"No, but others soon shall. Come, let us rejoin the others at the new camp around the mountain." 

Christine sighed, and for a long moment as they glided. Suddenly she had a thought. "Hey... do I get those nine years off my age, too?" 

Luna blinked in confusion. "Why fret about nine years, when you shall soon grasp eternity?" 


	5. Cats

Edited by:   
Pegasus   
and   
MaryK 
Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
Last revision: February 29, 2000 
Revised by:   
Cinnamon   
and   
Dasha Ariel 

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios.   
Summary 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

  
  


* * *

Salt Lake City 

September 1998 

  
  


Mandy was in a pensive mood, scribbling mindlessly onto the margins of the homework she was determined to finish. 

"Hi, Mandy!" came a pleasant male voice. 

Mandy looked up from her medical studies to see Brian Taylor hanging over her shoulder. "Hi, Brian. What's up?" Mandy leaned back in her chair, sighed, and took her glasses off. A decent looking boy... not bad for all the other boys at the BYU med center. 

"You sound like you could use more sleep." he noted sympathetically. 

"You're not the first to say so." Mandy sighed, rubbing her temples. 

"It's not finals for weeks -- why are you all stressed out?" 

Mandy shifted nervously. "Well, I have a close friend I contact every week -- only she didn't call this week, and I'm really worried." 

"Lives out of state?" he deduced by the phone card Mandy had left out on her notebook. 

"Yeah." Mandy hesitated to say 'out of our reality' also. 

"You hear about that Gargoyles attack in New York? Pretty weird, huh?" 

Mandy nodded. "I think the media's putting a spin on it, and we're not hearing the whole story." 

Brian nodded. There was a moment of silence between them. 

"I hear you were Christine Shelton's friend." he added, with a bit of trepidation. 

Mandy shifted nervously. Mandy had never been popular until Christine "died". Suddenly everyone knew her name. She guessed they all talked about her behind her back, so this one coming out with it was just a bit novelty for Mandy. "Yeah, we were... real close." 

Even though two years had gone by, the blow that was the slaying of Christine Shelton left a deep scar on the people at the University of Utah. Sure, students had died before while going here -- one had even drowned in the pool! However, no one had ever been slashed to death and had their car smashed into a canyon wall. The administration at the University of Utah had even taken the article about the slaying from the Salt Lake City Tribune, framed it, and now hangs on the Chief of Staff's wall in his office. 

"Look, I gotta go..." Mandy suddenly told him, slapping her books shut with a flurry of emotion. She put her papers sloppily in her bag, and left the building, heading back to the dormitory. 

After spending two years in the University of Utah's research program, she had transferred here to Brigham Young University, for medical school. She had her own dorm room for once, kitchen, and computer with World Wide Web access. She called the computer "Pigeon", because she had been using it as her carrier pigeon to the real world outside of school. While mindlessly cooking bacon (to place on toast) in the kitchen, she flipped the computer on. 

She sat down at the terminal, with half a mind to forget her studying until next week. She checked her E-mail. She had several messages, thankfully. It had been a dull week. Then, her eyes fell across one message in particular. 

From: "unknown@some.net.com"

Subject: "the angel has fallen"

Mandy blinked. That was Christine and Phantom calling! Somehow, they had managed to have a computer up in the forests of Washington, where they now made their home, despite the constant rains of the pacific northwest. Apparently, one of their number had a wannabe hacker gargoyle in it. 

  
  


"Eagle has vanished. 

Tigris is dead by Michael's hand. 

Angel is not speaking. 

Phantom." 

  
  


A short message, but it covered the important points. All the messages from them were cryptic and full of aliases and false names to prevent net-hackers from tracking the gargoyles down. Mandy had yet to find out how they managed the generic "From" address. Eagle, she knew, was Christine's little brother. Angel was Christine's Internet handle. 

She'd better get up off her bed and find out what's going on down there, she decided. She thought about phoning again, but that was pointless -- if Christine didn't want to talk, she'd have just turned the cel-phone off. 

Mandy flopped back onto her bed, just as the phone rang on the bed side table. She hurriedly and picked it up. 

"Mandy?" 

"Hello, Doctor Steffens. What can I do for you?" Mandy sighed. 

"I just got the message from your mother about leaving town for a while. Do you know just how long you will be gone? It was pretty unspecific." 

Mandy blinked. Her mother was vacation in France...! What the -- -- -- ?!!! 

Mandy's hand touched something under her pillow. Startled, she pulled out a manilla folder. "For Mandy" was written on it in large, gothic, scrolled calligraphy. 

She asked her professor to hang on for a moment, and opened the folder. 

Airline Tickets. Complete admit forms to take a leave of absence, with all the necessary signatures. And a note from Sharm? 

  
  


"Hello, Mandy! Yes, I know you hate it when I do this, but fun time is over, and now you have to rejoin the war. Believe me, you want to be here for this one. I'll keep the surgeons happy -- promise! 

Sharm" 

  
  


"Hello, Doctor Steffens?" 

"Right here. What's the word?" 

"Could be gone a long time. I'm involved with an... an national project, and they need me. I don't know how serious this all is yet, but it could be a few months. I'm sorry to get off onto the new school year like this, but could you mail the material to me, if I gave you an address or an E-mail?" 

"Sure, I'll talk to your other professors." 

"'Preciate it. I'll give the official paperwork to the Admin tomorrow." 

"What are you doing? Foreign politics?" 

"More like strategic defense planning -- only on a grander scale." 

"Sounds big!!!" 

"You have NO idea." 

* * *

When Mandy had sat down on the airline seat, no one sat next to her. It was a smaller flight, more private, more expensive. Where did Sharm get the finances for these things, anyway? All she could glean from the paperwork was a payment document with "Xanatos Enterprises" listed on one or two occasions as the company she was supposedly flying for and was covering the bill, and the signature of a "Grace Robbins". Mandy wrote that down in her notebook, along with a note to herself to look that name up. 

"Leave it to me, dearie." Sharm said. 

Mandy turned to see a woman dressed in a leather tunic, white billowing shirt, tights, and a sword belted to her side. She had a lot of bright red hair, that flowed down her shoulders, barely kept in check by a blue headband. 

"One of these days, I'll figure you out, Sharm. If it takes everything I've got." 

"Believe me, you don't want to." Sharm muttered, patting her arm. 

"What's the matter?" 

"Was I sounding down?" Sharm sighed, reserved. "Alright, maybe I was. Let me think for a moment. Your professors are happy, the flight will take off soon, Christine's brain has absolutely short-circuited, and you won't be going home for several years. Other than that, I'm just peachy, dearie!" 

Mandy blinked. "What?" 

"Get some sleep, dear." Sharm whispered into Mandy's ear. 

By the time the flight took off, Mandy was fast asleep. 

  
  


Washington state 

  
  


Christine was hanging from a tree. 

"Interesting position." Macaren muttered to himself, as he sunk his claws into the tree, starting to climb. 

"Leave me alone, Macaren." Christine muttered from above. 

"Not a chance. You haven't eaten for two days, the clan is worried sick over you, and they're going to celebrate the building of the new Glade." 

"I'm not in the mood for it, Macaren." She growled, warning him. 

"You're hanging upside down from a tree by your tail. What exactly ARE you in the mood for?" Macaren returned snidely. 

Christine was silent for a moment, then replied. "Practicing to be a chameleon?" 

"That's a gecko, love." 

"Whatever. Don't call me love." 

Macaren was about to reply, when Sharm suddenly appeared, upside-down, staring Christine in the face. "Hello, dear. Miss me?" 

"Hello Sharm. Goodbye Sharm." 

"My, aren't we in a lovely mood. Does this help?" The fay waved a hand and suddenly Macaren fell from his position on the tree. 

The corner of the pink gargoyle's mouth quirked. "Actually, yes it did." 

Macaren rubbed his head from where he had somehow landed on it, and glared at the fay, who was still upside down. "And where have you been, Little Miss Congeniality?" 

"And whatever are you doing on the ground with such a big bruise on your head, Little Mister Testosterone?" 

Macaren snarled. Sharm grinned, turning back to Christine. 

Sharm tapped her temples a moment, looking at Christine. Sharm drifted up and down with the air currents. "What exactly are you doing in a tree, midear?" 

"Oh no, not you too." 

"Should I try a spell?" 

"Cheater." 

"That's my job!" Sharm replied brightly. 

"I'm trying to get away from his like..." Christine snarled at Macaren. "They all want to know -- oooh, what's wrong little Christine... -- GRARH!" she growled. 

"Not exactly fun, I'd agree. I understand talking about these things does help." 

"I DON'T NEED ANY HELP!" Christine roared back. Sharm was unabated, and began to laugh. 

"...and this is why you're hanging upside-down in a tree? Uh huh." 

"She's been like this since Tigris's death." Macaren added, trying to be helpful (in the worst way). 

Sharm nodded. "Ahhhh! That. Okay, I can handle this now. Go away, Macaren." 

Macaren snarled at her, and stormed off. He didn't want to be dropped on his head again. 

"Now, midear, would you mind coming down from there? Hanging upside down is fun, but it makes it harder to think straight." 

"Then why are you doing it?" 

"Because, I'm fay! Besides, It's easier to talk to you." 

Christine roared in fury again, reverberating her tiger-like snarl. Her tail slipped from the limb, her wings snapped open, and she glided on the breeze above the canopy, trying to get away from Sharm. 

There was a sudden burst of magic, and Christine found herself floating in Sharm's palm. "That doesn't work either, dearie. You can't run from your problems. Losers way out. Plus, that's all you've been doing lately." 

Rather than to try and glide on wind currents now twenty times the size she was used to, she collapsed in a heap on Sharm's fay palm. "Okay, I'll talk!" 

Christine reappeared on the ground, normal sized, with Sharm floating over her. "Golly, you make it sound like a confession or something!" 

Christine stood to face her. "What do I have to do? Sit here and make oaths of fealty to Oberon all my life? How do I just stand by while Matthew vanishes into one of many fairy realms, Macaren is getting desperate to get his way with me, and those three tell me to STAY HERE!!! What kind of WAR is this?!!! Where on EARTH are we going after this, anyway?!!!" 

Sharm tipped her head to one side. "Avalon, of course." 

  
  


  
  


When the Stewardess shook her, Mandy finally awoke. "Huh? What? Are we there yet?" 

"No, ma'am. We're about to hit what could be minor turbulence, and we'd like everyone to buckle up." she said. 

Mandy shook the fog from her eyes, and cursed the fay again. Then again, how else could one sleep on a plane? "Right..." she answered groggily. 

Sharm was gone, and the seat next to her was vacant -- a good sign. The sun was down, and there were few lights outside the window except for stars -- a clear night. The light in the plane made them hard to see, though. 

Mandy checked her carry on bag once more, routinely, fastened her belt, and waited. 

There was a loud screech of tearing metal, and the place lurched -- nearly throwing Mandy out of her seat and making her suddenly motion sick. 

DRAT! A little turbulence?!!! She'd hate to see what a lot of turbulence was! 

Glasses and cups hit the floor, and there was a loud commotion among the passengers. 

There was a cracking noise, and another groan of metal. A scream was heard in the cabin, and there was a rushing of air as the plane depressurized. Mandy's hands clapped over her ears as they started to ache. The Oxygen mask compartments sprung open, and the emergency lights came on. 

WHAT WAS GOING ON?!!! 

From inside the cockpit was a roar -- not of tearing metal, but of an angry beast. 

  
  


  
  


Sharm was about ready to put Christine back in the tree! "Dear, you can't go find him, he's already gone into the next part of his life! Don't worry, we'll see him again! I'll make sure of it!" 

"That doesn't excuse the fact that..." For some inexplicable reason, Christine was beginning to cry hysterically, and was unable to finish the sentence. 

Sharm held Christine tightly. "Shhhh, it's all right. Things are going to turn out just fine. You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing!" 

Christine, sobbing, was at least out of her self pity mode for the moment. Sharm needed some more time. Christine was calming down, but Sharm continued to hold the pink gargoyle girl for a while until she finally stopped. Sharm produced a brush and began to brush out the girl's hair, humming to herself. Christine sighed, closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed. Sharm smiled - she was relaxing a little more. 

"Do you remember when I brushed you hair out when you were little?" she asked softly. 

She nodded. "I can't decide which was worse - adolescence as a human or as a gargoyle." Christine was still crying a little. 

Sharm paused. "Oh my, it's been a long time since I thought about it." In a move that seemed vaguely like a parlor trick, Sharm pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and began to dab away her tears. "You don't need to worry. You'll see them all again soon, I'll see to it myself. Matthew has some very important things he needs to discover in his life, and some of the choices he has to make will be MUCH harder than yours. You'll be there to guide him eventually - you'll see. You're going to be the one who makes sure he isn't hurt." 

Christine smiled, returning the embrace on her own now. 

"There. Doesn't that feel nice?" Sharm asked. Christine could only nod. 

"Christine!" Phantom called. 

  
  


~Out of time, Sharm thought. 

  
  


"What is it?" Christine replied, somewhat weakly and harshly. 

"Are... are you alright?" he asked tenderly, coming upon them from the north -- from the direction of the new gargoyle camp, running on all fours. 

"What is it, Phantom?" Sharm asked, evading the point. 

Phantom blinked at her. When had she gotten back? Why did Christine look like she'd been crying? Was this a 'girl thing'? "I just caught Macaren rummaging through all your personal effects, Christine." 

Christine blinked. "What was he looking for?" 

"This." Phantom said, holding up the magic scanner in one paw. 

"Why?" 

"Got me." Phantom replied, shrugging. Sharm hid the fact he knew it was a lie. 

"Nuts." Christine cursed, standing up. 

"Where did he go, Phantom?" Sharm inquired. 

"Well, I chased him up to about 2,000 feet, but then I lost him when he grabbed onto a passing airliner." 

Sharm stopped, eyes going wide. "Which airliner?" 

"How should I know? A small one with an "X" on the tail?" 

Sharm had a sickened feeling rising in her stomach. "Oh boy, this is SO not good..." 

  
  


Despite the stewardess's warning, Mandy took off her seatbelt, and threw herself in the direction of the cabin. The door had been hit a few times and would not open at first. When it did, Mandy had to suddenly duck as the flying form of the pilot was thrown over her head. 

A dark figure loomed over the console, wings spread. 

"MACAREN!" Mandy shouted. 

A face turned to her, white eyes aglow, and snarled. "Human! I might have expected you to return!" 

"I'm like a bad penny." Mandy noted, sarcastically. "I always turn up." 

Looking around, Mandy saw another stewardess and two copilots were on the floor, unconscious on the deck. Macaren turned to Mandy, looming angrily over her. He touched a switch, and all the lights in the plane went out. There was a click, as the door behind Mandy closed. She tried to open it again, but Macaren's talons were in her face before she could. 

"I'll deal with you later." he mumbled. There was a rushing noise in the dark, and Mandy fell onto the floor unconscious. 

  
  


  
  


Christine was baffled as to how Phantom had done it, but he remembered exactly which way plane had flown. Christine was sure they'd never find it. 

"Would you two move it?!!!" Sharm exclaimed, rushing ahead of the two gargoyles. 

Christine shrugged. "I'm only a gargoyle, Sharm. I don't fly!" 

Sharm scowled. "Oh bother..." 

The fay swung around behind the two gargoyles, took both of their belts in her hands, and began towing them at what was probably close to a Mach velocity. 

Christine's blood drained from her face. "SHAAAAAAAAAARM!...." 

"Stop whining, Christine. We're in a hurry!" 

"Why didn't you tell me you were a stunt double for a jet engine?" Phantom added, one arm shielding the wind in his face. 

Before Christine realized what was going on, they were on top on the airliner, a small Citation 10, with a hole torn in the top near the front. On the tail was painted a large "X" to form the word "Xanatos". 

"Whoa boy." Christine muttered. "This could get ugly." 

Phantom nodded to Christine. "Claw in! Climb underneath, and we'll meet in the front!" 

"Right!" Christine replied militarily. 

Sharm threw the two against the aluminum skin of the jet. Christine grunted, and dug her claws into it. "That hurt! Thanks a lot, Sharm!" 

"Your welcome!" she called back, and vanished in a puff of fairy dust. 

  
  


Phantom was on top of the tear in the roof quickly. He counted to three, and swung inside. He found himself standing just in front of a pile of bodies... two airline personnel, and the third was Mandy. 

What was she doing here? 

No time now. "MACAREN!" Phantom roared. 

There was a sudden clamor and a noise as Macaren sprung for the dark back of the small cabin, to try and strangle him. Phantom fell backwards on top of Macaren, and found themselves with their claws inside each other's, wrestling on the navigation control panel. Sparks flew and lights went out. 

Phantom and Macaren growled at each other. Phantom dug his feet into the floor, trying to get a grip on his attacker. But, the floor was not what he was used to, and found himself knee deep in the airline control wires beneath the floor. 

The plane lurched sickeningly, as the autopilot control was cut off, and it began to plummet. 

  
  


Christine fingered her way along the bottom. She was getting sick to her stomach. The plane kept changing direction -- no doubt someone was trying to throw her off. When the engines suddenly roared, and their velocity nearly doubled, Christine felt her throat fall into her stomach. 

She was nearly to the nose of the plane, when a clawed foot burst through the bottom of the plane, hitting her upside the face. The claw pulled back through, and Christine could hear the roars of two gargoyles inside. 

"Males," Christine muttered to herself, rubbing her cheekbone. 

However, before she could place herself in the hole, another form was thrown out of it. A human woman had been thrown out. Christine quickly caught the hem of her shirt before it was too late. 

It was Mandy. 

"Mandy? Mandy?!!!" She was unconscious and did not reply. 

Christine sighed. New plan. 

Carrying Mandy, Christine began to scale her way up the side of the Citation X. When she reached the window, a very surprised middle aged business woman looked at Christine and screamed. Well, Christine thought smugly, if this Xanatos company hadn't heard of gargoyles in it's upper echelons before, it would now! 

Christine waved at the lady - for effect - and moved on. 

  
  


Macaren threw Phantom against another rack of dials and displays, and Phantom collapsed onto the floor. 

"Why did it have to be you! You're not the one I want!" 

"I know who you want. Trouble is, I won't let you have her!" Phantom replied weakly, out of breath. 

  
  


"Now, ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We have the situation perfectly under control..." a pleasant voice drawled inside. Sharm was resplendent in her high heels and a stewardess outfit with a skirt that made her look more like a cocktail waitress. She kept the humans so totally confused by how she could be so blind to what was going on, that they all stared at her mindlessly, sucking on their gas masks. 

Well, at least they weren't in harm's way. 

Christine smashed through the ceiling, landing in the center of the aisle with Mandy in her arms. 

The humans were about to scramble at Christine's appearance, but when Sharm lightly said "Hello, Christine!", the humans forgot about Christine and turned their attention back to their scantily clad stewardess. Christine left Mandy in a vacant seat, and raced into the cabin. 

"Nice skirt, Sharm." she muttered. 

"Glad you like it! Now, if everyone could remain seated, put on the oxygen masks, and return the tray tables to their..." 

  
  


Macaren decided the best way would be to trash Phantom once and for all. He was annoying enough as it was. Macaren was about to dig his talons in as deep as he could sink them... 

The door smashed open, splintering. "Alright, Macaren! You want me? You got me!" Christine exclaimed, and rushed forward. Macaren turned suddenly around. 

  
  


Christine rushed forward, took him in her arms, and kissed Macaren on the neck. 

  
  


Macaren stared for a moment, in disbelief. Christine smiled, eyes glowing, Macaren's blood on her fangs. 

  
  


Macaren collapsed onto the floor in a shaking heap. 

  
  


Christine spat the taste of Macaren's sweat out of her mouth, and began picking up a copilot. "I hate it when I do that." she muttered. 

Sharm appeared in the doorway. "Oh good, you're done! You see nothing else would have worked, so that was why we gave you those..." 

"No time, Sharm! We're at under a thousand feet and going down fast!" Christine exclaimed, sweating profusely, trying to pull back on the control bar without pulling it off - with seemingly no effect! 

"MY TURN!" Sharm gibbered excitedly, and vanished. 

The Citation lurched again, upward. Christine was thrown backwards. Christine had the good sense to shut off the engines, as Sharm did the flying. Christine sat down, with a huff of relief, by Phantom, waiting for him to get up. 

Christine sighed. "Oh boy..." She rubbed her temples. "I'm not going to explain this one to the F.A.A." 

  
  


Mandy awakened in the back woods of Washington. She had a mild headache, but was more confused than in pain. 

"You okay?" Christine inquired. 

"Christine!" Mandy exclaimed. She leapt from her sitting position, and threw her arms around the gargoyle woman. 

"Hah, Mandy!" Christine exclaimed, twirling Mandy around lightly. 

"Whoa! Put me down already!" 

"Sorry, but I've missed you." 

Once Mandy was safely back on the ground, Christine nodded to Mandy's luggage -- a travel-on bag, a suitcase, and a Kitty Karrier. Mandy opened the cage, letting out the cat that was not at all phased from the airborne encounter. Sharm and Phantom approached nearby. 

"A cat? Can you take care of a cat on a quest like this?" Phantom inquired. He smiled. "Isn't there a rule against that somewhere?" 

"Who's this friendly little guy?" Christine inquired, scooping up the white Persian rubbing against her ankles. Christine petted the cat in her arms -- it had been over two years since she'd pet a cat, and certainly a lot longer since she'd done it in her sensitive gargoyle skin. 

Mandy put a small collar on the cat, with the name Lacey imprinted on it. 

"Lacey?!!!" Sharm asked, holding her forehead, turning pale. "I gotta get more sleep." 

~Fay sleep? Christine wondered. 

"She's a good cat, don't worry. I'll take care of her. Christine, will you carry her if we have to glide?" Mandy requested. 

"Alright, she can come with us." Phantom smiled. "I don't see why not." 

Christine leaned down, looking the cat in the eyes. "No Tomcats in the kitty carrier after ten, you hear?" she laughed. Lacey reached her paws out, trying to grab Christine's horns. "I remember her from the dorms..." 

"I think she recognizes your scent somehow." Mandy observed. 

"Cats are like that." Christine observed. 

Sharm asked to hold Lacey. Mandy shrugged, and gently handed the cat over. Sharm held the cat in her arms. "Why, she's no more than a kitten!" 

"True, my mom's kitten to be precise. Mom likes cats. We were surprised they didn't mind cats in my dorm at medical school, and so she gave me Lacey -- Mom named her. Heavens knows why I didn't rename her." 

"Oh no! Don't change it!" Sharm said, gently holding the cat up to her eyes and petting her. "Lacey is the perfect name for the little white cat who hangs around with a lot of friendly winged folk." This last part was cooed to Lacey. "Now all we need is a Labrador and a Chihuahua who like to watch television, and I'll be ready for the funny farm!" 

Lacey purred in Sharm's arms. Christine stared at Sharm blankly. 

"Hah! I like her!" Sharm announced, and began to wander off with Lacey. 

"Hey, wait a minute!" Mandy called after them, "I want my cat back!" 

Sharm tilted her head to one side. "Can't I play with her? I'm very good with pets -- I have a lot of them (or at least that's what Oberon says)." 

Mandy half laughed. "But I need to put SOME cat in that kitty carrier for the night." she protested. 

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Sharm asked, head tilted to one side. 

"Put a cat in a carrier to move her?" Mandy asked, confused by the question. "Better than letting her ride." 

Sharm shrugged. "If you say so. Easily done!" 

"Good." Mandy smiled back. 

Sharm and Lacey went running off into the woods. 

"I dunno." Mandy sighed. "Sharm's not so bad, once you get used to her." 

Phantom huffed, and walked off, back to camp. Christine followed, picking up Mandy's gear in one paw -- shocking Mandy once again at her friend's newfound strength. 

Mandy cleaned the carrier out from the airplane ride, and decided it was finally time to put Lacey to bed. Yeah, like Lacey would really go to sleep when Mandy wanted her to -- like a child more than a cat, she wondered. 

However, just before thinking of calling Sharm and Lacey back, she noticed something in Lacey's carrier that hadn't been there a moment before. She pulled out the small ebony collar with the diamond studded name on it. 

It wasn't Lacey's collar - Mandy didn't own anything this expensive... 

  
  


Mandy's eyes widened, and she screamed in terror. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" She was too late. 

  
  


  
  


When Christine got fed up with waiting for Mandy, it was a simple matter to find the spot where Mandy had been cleaning Lacey's Kitty-Karrier. The cage was made up tidily, and the door was closed and bolted. 

Mandy was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the only things nearby that Christine could find, besides the cage and the condiments used to clean it, was a small pile of clothes. A pair of men's wranglers, a beaded t-shirt, and Mandy's personal items. 

"Mandy?" Christine called out. This was no time to go skinny dipping! Besides, the lake was a mile down the trail, and freezing cold! The cat in the carrier began meowing at Christine. 

~What, Christine thought, did she leave you in there all alone? 

Only, Christine noticed, it wasn't a grey/white cat in the carrier. Christine opened the cage, and scooped the an ebony black tabby out of the carrier. This cat had a matching ebony collar, with diamond studs. 

  
  


The diamonds formed the name "Mandy". 

  
  


"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!!! SHARM! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!!" Christine screamed into the night, her tiger-like growl echoing from each of the trees. 

The black cat meowed at Christine with earnest. 

Sharm and Lacey laughed and laughed. 

  
  


* * *

Sharm's laughter just enraged Christine further. 

Christine, sporting her new iron hunting javelin, went hunting Sharm. She was sick of being manipulated by the fay. She wanted to show at least one of them exactly how she felt. 

It took Sharm a moment to realize that Christine was after her. Christine was bounding through the grass on all fours, stalking her upwind, buried in the grass like a panther, hind quarters bunching. 

"Christine, what are you doing?" 

Christine just snarled, as she stalked closer to her prey. 

"Christine! You've gone off the deep end! I only turned Mandy into a cat! And it's a reversible transformation!" 

  
  


"That's what you said about THIS!" she snarled in retort. 

  
  


Christine feigned hitting Sharm with the javelin, and missed. Sharm was just too quick. 

"Christine Patya Shelton," Sharm growled, eyes beginning to turn red crimson. "Put that thing down now, or I'm liable to turn you into something worse than a cat!" 

The tone of voice startled Christine, but she would not loosen her fighter's crouch. 

"Christine...!" Sharm began to warn her. 

Christine let the javelin fly. Sharm was startled, and wasn't able to dodge completely. She was cut deeply in the shoulder. Sharm yelped, holding her arm, turning her blazing red eyes to Christine. 

Christine leapt, scaling one of the trees. As Christine's feet were gouged into the tree and bunched underneath her, Sharm pointed a finger at her. 

The seams in her jumpsuit split. "Fay heal quickly, but the shirt is harder to fix. You ruin my clothes, I ruin yours." Sharm muttered. 

Christine was half tempted to just ignore it, but by the time Christine was ready to take to the air and spring at Sharm, Christine found herself being held aloft and frozen in place by Sharm's magic. 

The fay hovered over to Christine, eyes still aglow. Sharm was silent for a moment, as the two looked at one another, but then the anger faded from Sharm's eyes. 

  
  


Sharm began to cry. 

  
  


Christine was startled. She'd never seen a fay cry -- let alone Sharm. "I thought you had learned to be better than Malcora..." 

Christine suddenly fell to the ground in a heap, and the seams tore further on their own. Sharm walked away without looking back, holding her cut arm tightly. 

Christine returned to camp, her jumpsuit in positive tatters. She raced over to her bag to find a suitable replacement before the whole thing fell apart. Most of the seams had begun to work loose on the long hike back, and Christine was losing her clothes quickly. 

Phantom found Christine, dressed in Shakespeare's old deer leathers that only covered a little more of her than needed, sorting through a pile of torn, dirty, navy blue cloth. She did not seem very comfortable in the leathers, and kept pulling at them. They were very tight, and pressed on her. She seemed frustrated trying to stitch the jumpsuit back up. 

"What's this?" 

"My shirt." 

"Your shirt?" 

"It was my favorite shirt!" 

"It was your ONLY shirt." 

"Matthew gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago... before he..." 

"What happened?" Phantom asked with astonishment. 

"It tore while I was hunting, and the seams began to come loose on the hike back." 

"Hunting? What made it tear while you were hunting?" 

"Well, it split when I was crouched down..." 

Phantom raised an eyebrow. There was something missing here. "Crouched, eh? How big of a thing were you hunting?" 

"Eh..." 

  
  


(later) 

  
  


"You tried to kill Sharm?!!!" Phantom exclaimed incredulously. Christine was petting Mandy, trying to soothe away the feelings that were eating away at her. Mandy found herself enjoying the attention. 

"She turned Mandy into a cat!..." Christine's argument lacked conviction, and she obviously knew it. 

"Christine, I've know Sharm longer than you have, and Sharm does not do things without a reason." 

"Then why did she have to do this to Mandy?" 

"I don't know. But I do know that it must have hurt her more than anything for you to turn on her like that. She's probably gone for good." 

"No, she left her necklace, here, in my bag, and you know how protective she is of this." Christine noted, producing the small silver sphere on a long gold chain from her pouch. 

Phantom went deathly pale. "What? Do you know what that could mean?" 

"No, what?" 

"She's practically DISOWNED you!" Phantom exclaimed. He sat down on the ground with a heavy sigh. "I doubt we are going to ever see her again." 

Christine looked at him with a stricken expression. "I... I... I'm sorry." 

Phantom said nothing. 

"Hey guys." Talavon's voice came from the trees. He walked over to them. "Do you know what's wrong with Sharm? She had the saddest expression on her face, and she was mumbling something about finishing what she started. She didn't even notice me!" 

Christine and Phantom looked at each other. Christine felt ill. 

  
  


Sharm picked up a stick and started doodling in the dirt. She had gotten to the point where she was so tired that she couldn't fall asleep like she desperately needed to. She couldn't stand the bustle of the camp either, so she had come out here to think. 

Her hand invariably began to sketch a familiar figure. First the outline of the face. Long with a pointed chin. Next his large eyes, his nose, his wide mouth and his expressive eyebrows. Then his hair, a little too long for her taste, but she didn't think it would look right if it was short. Finally, of course, his sails that passed as ears. 

She wondered when she had fallen in love with him. Probably when she had first met him. She had been preparing the way for the coming of her Queen when she had run into him. It was fairly easy to guess who he was, he had quite a bit of fame even there. When she accused him of his title, he did something she didn't expect. He started boasting about it. Sharm smiled at the memory as she had smiled then. 

"What are you doing?" Christine inquired from behind her. 

Sharm immediately kicked dirt over the sketch, turning to scowl at the pink gargoyle -- but then thought better of it. "Simply thinking, dearie." 

Sharm looked at Christine, dressed now in Shakespeare's leathers. Sharm now regretted it putting a spell on Christine's jumpsuit. She didn't like those leathers. They were very exposing, and Sharm felt the need to save Phantom where she could. 

Christine winced at her tone, then sat next to her on the rock she had chosen. "What about?" 

Sharm sighed, she would try and forget about what had happened for the moment. "Unrequited love." 

"Anyone I know?" 

Sharm laughed humorlessly, stabbing at the ground with a stick. "If you don't remember me, you won't remember him." 

"Okay, then tell me about him." 

Sharm looked at her with a wary expression. "I'd rather you remember for yourself. In fact, I'm getting sick of this whole thing. Let's go find the three amigos and get your memory fixed the rest of the way!" She put her stick down decisively and began to walk determinedly to camp. 

When Christine didn't follow immediately, Sharm turned to see her trying to make out what was left of the picture in the dirt. Sharm realized with a sinking feeling that she hadn't erased it very well. She'd have to come back later to fix that. If the weird sisters saw that drawing, they'd never let her live it down. 

Sharm gave a start of surprise when she realized that Christine was clutching Sharm's pendant tightly in one hand. 

"Christine?" Sharm said tentatively. 

Christine gave a start, then followed. 

  
  


Christine couldn't understand Sharm. Had she been forgiven already? Christine didn't think so. There was something about Sharm's attitude that made Christine wary, and there was a bit of tension in the air. 

Sharm marched angrily up to the weird sisters. "Okay, girls. You are going to give Christine her memories of me, and you're going to do it now. I've waited far too long for you to do it on your own, and it almost got me killed!" 

The sisters raised an eyebrow at this remark, smiling at one another in self satisfaction. They chose at that moment to reappear in their true fay form. 

"Why would THIS bother us?" 

"Whatever problems you had would have to be because of you." 

"Her memories of you are not something she needs to remember." Luna noted. 

"Oh really? Well I seriously doubt that Oberon told you just to fix part of her memory." 

"What Oberon said is none of your concern." Phoebe answered very quickly. 

"Uh-huh. And how do you figure that?" 

Selene turned to the other sisters with a concerned expression on her face. "Oberon did say we were to restore all her memories." 

"Does her mind have the ability to handle all those memories?" Luna inquired. 

"It seems we have no choice but to test it now." 

"Our time is out." Phoebe added in a sour tone, sighing heavily. 

"Finally." Sharm muttered. 

The Weird Sisters joined hands. There was no half-understood poetry this time. The three formed a circle around the pink gargoyle. She felt very suspicious of what they were about to do, and even a bit frightened. They began to circle in the air around her. 

Christine's mind blanked out. 

* * *

**August 1698  
Drake Castle, the Isle of Man**

  
  


Malcora was suddenly aware. 

Something was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be stone by night! Malcora struggled against her stone skin, although somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was hopeless. She was stone eternally. 

Time passed. 

Days. 

Weeks. 

The worst part of this stone form is sleeping without sleep, yet being entirely unconscious. She had no idea what was going on around her, and she faded in and out. 

"Poor little girl. Don't worry, I'll get you out of there before you can blink." came a voice. It was familiar to her, but her mind simply was not working. 

"For the soul to be willing 

the flesh must first grow weak 

just long enough 

for soul in flight 

to pass from cheek 

to cheek." 

Before she had the chance to wonder how she was supposed to blink while stone, she had the sensation of being lifted out of her body, and into a new one. 

She could see! Malcora immediately tried to see the owner of the voice. She couldn't move at all! 

The voice in her mind made a tishing sound. "Calm down, dearie. You'll be alright. I wish there was somewhere else to put you, but you won't be born for another three hundred years. I hope this will do." 

Malcora stopped trying to move, and looked at what she could see without her eyes moving. While the voice was talking, she was seeing a pendant in her hands, hung by a cord around her neck. The pendant was made from silver, and marked in little moons and stars. Suddenly her eyes shifted to look down the hall she was in. 

Her stone form stood across from her. Sir Joseph encased her in his arms, frozen in stone. The two statues stood in the center of the main thoroughfare in Drake Castle. The sun was shining in the windows. 

THE SUN! She wanted to look at it, see how it made those brilliant rays in the windows! It was so bright in here! 

"Not now, dearie. Come look." the voice said. 

Disappointed, Malcora felt herself move down the hall, to where there was a mirror mounted on one wall. The view centered on that image. She felt herself sat down luxuriously on a chair to look at her reflection. 

Sharm was reflected back in the mirror. 

Malcora screamed. 

"Calm down, I said! Look." Sharm, in the mirror, held up the pendant hanging around her neck. "You're in there. I'm sorry, but it will have to do. You'll be magically protected, and I can watch out for you." 

Protect me? Curse you, fay! What is going on?!!! 

"Fine then, don't calm down. Do you realize you take being a gargoyle to an extreme? You see, your gargoyle body was borrowed from the gargoyle child your mother first conceived. That child was in the process of miscarrying. I couldn't allow your mother to loose her first child after so long, so I got you from the future, and used your spirit to save the child. That was how you were born, in that gargoyle body." 

What? If I am not a gargoyle... 

"Oh, don't be dramatic, Malcora. You are a gargoyle. The space was open for rent, all you did was move in and fix things up. Besides, your body would have been miscarried otherwise." 

Where did I come from, then? 

"From the human Christine Shelton in the future, Terra's daughter." 

Human?!!! You mean to say that I'm some... 

"Listen to me, Malcora, will you? That's not the way magic works. You were born a gargoyle FIRST, so you are, by law, a gargoyle. After a time in the human life, you will be brought back to life in the form you once knew." 

Malcora grumbled some more, but got nowhere. 

"Don't fret, Malcora. I know it's a shock. I sort of lost my ticket back to the future, so I've got 300 years to show you around. Time for lesson one of living as a fay. If things end the way I think they will, you'll need to pay close attention." 

* * *

The battle raged hotly, stirring up Malcora's gargoyle nature. Sharm put her down, telling her to control herself. "Cool down, Malcora." Sharm admonished. "What you see is only what I see, so just relax. You go where I go. Today is the day you were to be killed, had you not been changed to stone." 

There was a flash of magic, and Sir Steffen appeared in front of Sharm. The elderly monarch bowed before her; the king of Castle Drake. "Sharm! Where have you been? What frivolities have you been playing while we've been under the sword?!!!" 

"No time, your majesty. How goes the war?" 

"Ever since the departure of Tutela's children with the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, the gargoyles have been few and far between. Now the people feel the gargoyles are weak, and want to destroy them. They... won't listen to me. They've revolted, and they're breaking into the castle." 

"I fear for the gargoyles." Sharm said. 

"Aye. They are more vulnerable than we." 

"They will survive to guard the Isle of Man and this Castle for years to come. Gargoyles always survive, amazingly." 

"Very well. It is safe for you to know that some of the ones on the outer parapets have already been destroyed or damaged by catapult." 

Sharm's eyes shot open. "NO!" 

There was a sudden burst of magic, and Malcora found herself looking out from a parapet over a sea of people bombarding Drake Castle. Several people already stood up here, and they all produced sharp implements when Sharm appeared. 

"Sorry, dearie. This is no place for civilians." Sharm said. Malcora's felt herself being plucked from around Sharm's neck, and down between the fay's breasts. 

Sharm scowled at the men. The weapons had iron in them. Sharm decided turn about was fair play, and recalled her human sorcery -- producing a magnificent sword in her hands, and faced them. Two of them held only daggers, and the fay knocked them off the parapet with a swing of her foot. Two more had a bow and a crossbow. Sharm knocked them upside the head when they weren't looking. The last few were a problem -- swords out and ready for them. 

Sharm hadn't done this in a while, but she still had the nack. She bested them all, and they fell aside. Sharm's desperate gaze fell upon the stone floor where Tutela -- Terra -- lay shattered across the ground. Malcora's thoughts became utter desperation and helplessness. 

  
  


MOTHER!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! 

  
  


Sharm furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated on the spell. 

"TERRA AWAKEN! 

ARISE! 

WITHOUT SUBSTANCE 

YOUR MISSION IS INCOMPLETE! 

PROTECT HER ONCE AGAIN!" 

There was a long silence, before Malcora's thoughts were heard again. 

"What happened?" 

"She is awake, but time must pass before we will again know her." Sharm said, as her gaze fell on the stone pieces. She touched them gingerly, fingering the stone pieces tenderly. Tutela's stone face, and part of her hair and horns were nearby. Sharm looked at it demurely. 

Sharm's voice was bitter and stung with tears. "This is your first lesson, Malcora. For the next three hundred years you will be immortal as I. And THIS is what it means to be immortal." 

There was a long silence of thought between them. Malcora then asked a question, much more reserved and calmer now. "Why mother?" 

"Lesson two, Christine. It's history - it's happened. In 300 years you become Christine Patya, who will one day serve Oberon, though as a human or a gargoyle is up for debate. For me, it's already happened. I'm going to make sure it does. You don't have any choice." 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When the display of magical energy began to fade, Christine toppled into Phantom's arms. She blinked, looking up at him, and then over to Sharm. "Sharm?" she asked in quiet voice. 

Sharm stood on the ground, in her fay form, looking at her dubiously. "Christine?" 

Christine leapt to Sharm, wrapping her arms and wings around her. "Oh, Sharm!" 

There was a long moment, as the two held each with teary eyes. "I'm so sorry..." Christine said, "I didn't understand..." 

"Ooooh, I guess it's okay." Sharm replied. "Just don't come after me like that again." 

"Malcora... Christine... neither of them had a chance to really grow up. The never learned to grow beyond their... innate gargoyle nature." Christine mused in a quiet voice. 

Sharm smiled at her. "Don't get too deep on me. Wait 'til your my age before you ask how grown up you are." 

"You're - what - two thousand years old? I'm never gonna be your age." 

"You don't know that." 

Christine gave a small laugh. The tension left their minds. Talavon gave Christine a comforting touch on her shoulder. "We're going to have some announcements in the Commons. Com'n you guys." 

Christine turned to Talavon. "How did you survive three hundred years?" 

"I spent some time locked in sleep too, but Demona helped rescue me." 

They nodded, following. No one spoke, but Christine's eyes followed Phantom's eyes closely. 

"I know you from somewhere... I don't know where... but your face is so familiar to me..." 

* * *

"In further news, Macaren's body was found by the officials at Seatac Airport in Washington. The passengers, it seems, had no idea what was going on, and only remember the red haired stewardess." Talavon announced. 

Sharm grinned. 

"Macaren, meanwhile, was given to the ASPCA." 

Sharm leaned over to Christine. "The who? I never was good at acronyms." 

"The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals." She answered, grinning impishly. She turned to the Weird Sisters. "So, my dears, door one or door two?" 

Phoebe scowled. "We should never have given her third memories back." she mumbled with disgust. 

"She wreaks of Sharm's influence now." 

"Neither." Selene answered Christine, "In the morning you leave for Avalon to report to our Lord." 

"We will go ahead of you now." 

"Us? The morning? But in the morning..." 

The weird sisters flashed brilliantly, and vanished. 

"Well..." Christine sighed. "So much for that." 

* * *

Sharm was giving Phantom the third degree. Phantom didn't want to hear it, and was trying to focus her words out of his head. 

"Okay, MISTER Beast. You go over there and tell Beauty that you love her, or we're going to be late getting to Avalon tomorrow." 

Phantom looked up to see Sharm standing over him in a threatening manner. She was actually on the ground this time. "Yeah... right! What am I supposed to do? Waltz up to her and say, 'I've known you for two years now. Will you marry me?' Riiiiiiiiight. You women have the easy part. All you have to do is say 'Yes' or 'No'!" 

"You call that easy?" Sharm threw her arms up in the air. "We have to wait for you men to ask us before we can actually do anything! Terra actually gave up on Padrecor and asked him. You think we've got it so easy, I'd like to see you be a demure little girlfriend waiting for your boyfriend to pop the question...!" Sharm's voice trailed off, scratching her head for a moment. "Whoa, I can't even picture that one." 

"I have no sympathy for you." 

Sharm grinned impishly and kissed him on the cheek. "You'll do fine kiddo. But I'd like to have it done before sunrise." 

"You ask the impossible, Sharm. I can't just try and marry her. What do you think Macaren wanted to do? He wanted to take advantage of her! If he had, we would have instantly lost the war! She's not bound to trust me after that." 

"Phantom, we're counting on you." Sharm spoke down to him. 

Phantom heaved a heavy sigh. "Christine's nothing like Manya." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know, exactly. She's... such a gargoyle sometimes." 

There was a pause between them. Sharm patted Phantom on the shoulder. "Don't I know it? Oh com'n. Go for some spice in your life." 

"Big help you are." 

Sharm smiled. "That's my job!" 

* * *

Christine was laughing again. 

Phantom was utterly amazed how much personality had developed in Christine, especially since she'd remembered these latest memories. 

"Wait a minute, you mean she left you there?" 

Christine giggled. "Hah! Not then. There was another time, though. She was going up north in a lot of cold, and dropped me down her shirt again. She spent eleven months up there. It took her three weeks after we left the north for her to remember to take me out again." 

Phantom chuckled. "So it was no accident we were on the same clifftop that one morning." 

Christie laughed a moment more, and sighed. "Nope. I was up there because up there I could fly in my own way. Because I always could -- glide, anyway. It was almost like I was dreaming of having my wings again, you know -- on a subconscious level." 

There was a moment of silence. 

"Phantom?" 

"Yes, Christine?" 

"Who was that gargoyle you were traveling with?" 

"Him? That's a long story. Actually, I'm rather glad you got him. He was not a 'good guy'." 

"Then why'd you travel with him?" 

"I was hiding out. I was pretending to be on the bad guy's side for a while. Then I found you, and things became a bit complex." 

"You met me, eh?" Christine smiled, remembering. "I wonder how Ket's doing?" 

"Well, good I hope." Phantom said. 

"So do I. Matt too." 

"Christine?" 

"Hm?" 

"You've changed a lot." 

Christine smiled. "Thanks, actually. Now, what is it you want?" 

"What?" 

"Phantom, don't take me for a fool. You've been sitting here throwing compliments at me for half an hour. What do you mean to say?" 

"I... I don't... well, I..." 

Christine's gaze was now fixed on him. Phantom knew he had lost. 

"I give up." 

"Give up what?" 

"I screwed it all up." 

"What? Phantom, what? Tell me." 

"Well, I was just going to mention..." 

"Yes?" 

"That I..." 

"Yes?" 

Phantom stopped, thinking about what he was going to say. Christine waited, patiently. Phantom was struggling to recover his control over the situation. 

"Will you come with me for a moment, Christine?" 

Christine nodded, and they walked out into the forest for a moment. There were a few signs of activity here and there, of the gargoyles preparing to break camp tomorrow, those that were going. However, Phantom was leading far away from camp, far away from the humans and the gargoyles alike, closer to the mountain. 

Christine and Phantom's infrared eyes could see the heat of the dome in the center of the crater on Mount Saint Helens, like a hot beacon. The volcano never slept. 

Phantom went to all fours, climbing a hillside, and Christine followed, curiosity piqued. Phantom helped her part of the way, only when she wouldn't have actually admitted she needed a little help. 

They finally arrived at a small lake, hidden into one hillside. Phantom stood over it, impressed. Christine had to agree, it was lovely. The moonlight shone off it beautifully. Phantom suddenly leapt in, leaving a large splash in his wake. He reappeared a moment later by the side of the pool, grabbed Christine's leg, and pulled her in. 

Christine yelped, and suddenly found herself in the small pool of water. Had she still been human, the coldness of the water might have bothered her. She resurfaced, rubbing the water from her face. Phantom reappeared in front of her, his shaggy white hair damp and grey now. It betrayed the horns on his brow now. 

Phantom leapt, and tried to dunk Christine again. She was standing on the bottom. Christine playfully retaliated, and pushed Phantom down into the lake. While under, his paws found her tail, and he pulled on it. They both reappeared above water at the same time. Christine reached out, threw an arm around his neck in a choke-hold, about ready to run her knuckles across the top of his head, but Phantom twisted in her grasp, so they were facing each other... 

...and Christine still had her arm around his neck. 

Phantom embraced her as well. Startled at his friendliness, they stayed in the hug for a long time. 

"I'm so glad I met you." Phantom said. "You've made a big difference for me -- more than you'll ever know. I don't want to lose you." 

"I'm not going anywhere." Christine replied. 

Phantom sighed. "Let's hope not." 

"You know more than you're letting on." 

"Indeed. Let's hope it's enough." 

  
  


Phantom reached up and kissed Christine. 

  
  


Phantom's eyes were closed. Christine's were startled at first but closed, and there was a long, savored moment. Christine felt herself light on fire, as though something inside her had just clicked on. Her body tingled with excitement. It was like magic, no, stronger than that. There was something incredibly right about this... something Christine couldn't put her talon on. Phantom broke off, and saw Christine's expression came out of the kiss in a complete daze. "Oh wow... I've always wanted to feel like this..." She thought. 

Phantom smiled meekly, looking at her. There was a long pause, before Phantom finally told her. "I love you, Christine." 

  
  


Christine realized she loved him back. 

  
  


  
  


Section Two: Avalon 

"What is illusion, what is true?" 

  
  


  
  


The display of the sun off the water sparkled like nothing on earth. Christine roared viciously, emerging from her stone form. Phantom, across from her, did also. Sharm was nowhere to be seen, but Mandy was in her kitty carrier (just barely awakened), which was sitting in the tall grass. The smells of Jasmine and Rose reached Christine's senses. She looked around her quickly. 

"Avalon." Phantom concluded. "Sharm didn't come with us, I see." 

"Yes, she told me about that." She said that if she came, Oberon would gather her anyway, safety net or no safety net. Phantom looked relieved. 

Lacey was nowhere to be seen, and Mandy was pawing at her cage bars. She wanted OUT! 

Christine took a moment to reach down, and lift the latch on her cage. Mandy pushed her way out, and paused to flick a paw at the cage, as though she were kicking it angrily. 

"I don't think she likes the carrier." Phantom observed. 

"Would you?" 

Phantom nodded, smiling. 

The lay of the land was taken in next. They stood on a rocky beach, facing the mountainous inland. 

To the left, along the shore, a lighted brazier lit one clifftop. "I suppose we're going that way?" 

Phantom nodded. "Of course." 

Phantom alighted on a rocky out cropping, and took to the wing, Mandy cradled in his arms. Christine picked up the carrier and followed. 

After passing the brazier sentinel. Christine caught glimpses of more winged shapes circling the moonlit landscape. However, Phantom was not interested in them. He dived straight for the castle that appeared nestled in the canyon by the river running into the mountains. 

He alighted on the roof of one of the large meeting rooms, sliding open a glass panel. Intrigued, Christine set the Kitty Karrier down on the roof (it wasn't likely Mandy was going to get lost, or make a mess of anything -- she was more intelligent than that), and followed Phantom inside. 

The hall was filled with light. Christine, upon swinging down from the roof, found herself suspended in the air, unable to move, above a dais of some sort. Phantom hung in the air next to her, wings caped. 

Everyone was looking at them. 

The room was filled with people... and things. Christine had a difficult time telling who was human and who wasn't. It took her a minute to realize who she was looking at. 

Fairies. Elves. Fair folk. Fay. Lots of them - in any of a hundred shapes, sizes, and colors. 

Staring at her! 

"Phantom..." Christine began. 

Christine followed Phantom's gaze to the head of the room. There, a large man with blue toned skin looked up at them. He was very large, had pointed ears, and very... interesting clothes. A woman with green toned skin stood next to him, draped loosely in green gauze over a slim cut and revealing outfit. 

"Uh, Phantom, are they...?" 

Phantom was no longer beside her. He swooped down with a flurry, landing in the midst of the assembled... creatures below. They dispersed to the sides, giving the gargoyle room. 

Phantom bowed. "Milord?" 

"Greetings, Arion." said the blue man on the dais. "Well met." 

"My lord, Christine Patya Shelton. As promised." Phantom said, indicating with one paw to Christine, still hanging somewhere near the ceiling from nothing. 

"Well done, Arion." the woman replied, smiling. 

Christine's heart was racing... what was going on?!! They were treating her like some sort prize that had been won. A deep hearted suspicion began to form in her mind. 

"You did very well, Arion. Our enemies were utterly fooled." the blue man added. Christine tried to speak, but somehow the spell holding her prevented her. 

The green woman's eyes trailed up from Phantom to Christine. "Had you best introduce us?" 

Phantom nodded. "Of course, how remiss of me." 

Christine looked at Phantom. He appeared to be grinning; a large, sloppy, toothy grin. Phantom stood on one foot, and began to twirl around. 

...and around, and around, and around until Christine couldn't distinguish his features. Christine winced, feeling her eyeballs start to spin in their sockets. "I'm only dreaming... only dreaming... only dreaming... there's no place like home... no place like home..." 

When he started to slow down, Christine realized something was different about him. Perhaps it was his pale blue skin, or the fact that he now looked like a short human of about 17 years, with long "parasail" ears and dressed in a seventeenth century outfit. 

He was a fay. 

He whizzed off the ground, to hover in the air before Christine. He clasped his hands in front of him. "Hello, Christine." 

Christine nodded. "I thought so." She slapped him. 

Her claws left a three small trails on his face, which immediately healed over. He grasped his jaw for a moment. "I would remember you anywhere, Arion. You could have at least told me it was you." 

"What would you have me say?" Phantom-the-fay/"Arion" protested. "I knew you in previous life?" 

"It would have been a start!" Christine bit back. 

The man in blue chuckled. 

"Meet my parents." Arion said, referring to the couple on the dais. 

"I guessed." Christine muttered. "Oberon and Titania?" 

"Your mortal friend, Arion," Oberon observed. "has teeth." 

Arion turned to Oberon. "Can not a bee's sting or a dog's bite hurt or kill a man? These mortals, though tiny and insignificant, have the spark of life enough to match us, or even overcome us, as they did your father." 

"Indeed, you speak wisely Arion." Oberon nodded. "The mortals which defend this castle by night are but insignificant creatures, yet they have power enough to slay even I. They are living things, understanding compassion and duty..." 

"...and Mercy." the female added. 

"Yes..." Arion agreed, turning back to Christine. "...and beauty..." Arion took Christine's chin in his hand. "...and love." 

"Very well, Arion. This court already owes you a favor. For bringing the mortal to us, we owe you again." 

"You will owe me thrice before your precious battle is resolved." Arion returned without even blinking as he looked Christine in the eyes. Christine could not turn, but was unwilling to even blink, as she looked into his eyes. They were so... big! 

Oberon raised an intrigued eyebrow, looking over to the pink gargoyle. 

"Indeed." Oberon observed. "Very well, Arion. The gargoyle Christine is welcome in our midst, as a part of Goliath's clan, the Honor Guard of Avalon, and any of her clan as well." 

"Thank you, milord." Christine was allowed to say aloud. 

Arion bowed. The assembled fay grumbled. Oberon turned to other matters. Arion gave off a burst of light, and became Phantom the Gargoyle again. 

  
  


The warm, magical plane slipped through her body like it was water. Christine stopped, turned, and touched the surface of the mirror she had just flown through at full wing span. The mirror had not gotten bigger, nor had she grown smaller, yet she glided through with ample room. Now, the mirror was a solid surface against her talons. 

Christine was beyond amazement. She was numb to it now. She was like a little child again, learning a whole new world. Arion watched her stop and touch the mirror, look at all the tapestries, weapons, and portraits on the library walls. He felt like a father; beaming with pride as his daughter experienced the world anew. "Tenth century." she observed. 

Yet, Phantom shook himself. Why on earth did he say it? He hadn't been lying when he said he loved her, Sharm was right about that. Yet, why? Why her? Of all the people he'd run into in all these years, why her? 

Why NOW? 

  
  


Christine was very aware of how closely Phantom was watching her. No doubt to gauge her reaction. 

After gliding through the mirror, she found herself in this library. There were all sorts of interesting things hung about. An old manuscript of the bible sat in several scrolls. Upon looking at it, it was not only in Greek, but the script appeared quite recent -- only a few decades old, perhaps? 

There were magnificent stained glass windows in rows across the upper edge of the room. They were dark. 

Phantom led Christine to the fireplace, where a white haired woman sat in a rocking chair, studying an old leather bound book studying studiously. Phantom "ahem"ed politely, and she looked up, startled. 

"Ah, I'm sorry, Lord Arion." 

"It is of no matter, Princess." Phantom said. "I present to you Christine." 

"Milady." the woman bowed. Christine nodded deeply to her. 

"She may be staying with us for... quite a while. Oberon has decreed that she be considered a part of your clan." Phantom inquired. 

She stuttered slightly. "Ah.. of course, milord." 

"Thank you, Princess." 

Phantom nodded to them both. "If you'll excuse me. I must attend to something." 

The gargoyle walked back through his mystical mirror, after bidding them goodbye. Christine and the Princess looked at each other for a long moment, heaven only knowing what they were thinking. Christine looked down at the deerskin loincloth and midpeice she was wearing, Shakespeare's leathers. She blushed, feeling like a slut. "Oh, I'm sorry. I have something nicer than this, but it got... well, cursed..." 

"Ah, psh! It is no matter, young gargoyle. Yer clothes make no difference to them, they will accept you regardless." 

"I don't mean to be an intrusion." 

"Oh, ye'll not be an intrusion. In fact - what do you know of a gargoyle's battlelore?" 

"Quite a bit, actually." 

"Then we could use your skill and advice." 

"I am but your humble servant, princess." she nodded. 

  
  


  
  


"Your duties in this matter are not complete!" 

"It would be dishonorable to do as you command, milord!" Arion protested. 

"None the less, if you do not, the Unseelie shall." 

"Yes, I know milord. Please, all I need is time." 

Oberon sighed. "Fortunately, that is one thing we've plenty of." 

  
  


  
  


"First of all. I remember you clearly now, Arion. You were the boy Sharm used to instruct -- her pupil." 

"I still am, in a way." Phantom nodded. 

"Were you Phantom then?" 

"I was Arion." 

Christine sighed. "But the Arion I knew was married." 

Phantom sighed. "I was. A long time ago." 

"To who?" 

"Manya. The dark seelie killed her." 

"Go on." 

Phantom sighed. "Originally there was only one court of fairy - ten thousand years ago. That was before Oberon and Madoc started a war over Titania's affection. Later, after the banishment of Madoc, Oberon married my mother, and I was born later. When Oberon married her, the children led by Madoc and Maeve protested and rebelled. They wanted to wreak enslavement upon all mortals, and use the earth for their own purposes. The courts became divided in the Seelie Court and the Unseelie court. We are the Seelie court." 

"Where is the Unseelie court?" 

"Banished from Avalon. They are not a threat. The problem here is that there is dissension arising among the seelie, and Oberon doesn't like it. They two sides talked out our differences, and agreed that a mortal would solve the question since they could pass only a partial judgement. It was not agreed what kind of mortal, so Oberon suggested that he would see a child born of a certain mortal mother, and if the child was human, the seelie that are rebelling could free the Unseelie, and use mortal for whatever purpose they desire. However, if it was a gargoyle, then they accept banishment with the other Unseelie." 

Christine nodded. "So that was the point, eh?" 

"Hmm?" 

"From the start. When I was with Macaren, you said we were losing. When I dumped Macaren, you said we were winning. It was about me... having a baby? I'm here to be some kind of... concubine?" 

"Oberon wanted no bloodshed among the fay to settle the dispute. Not after the war with Unseelie was so disastrous ten thousand years ago." 

"I understand that. How did Manya die?" 

"She was asked, by Oberon, to go among the Dark Seelie - (the Seelie who are Unseelie supporters), and learn their plans. However, our son became involved, and..." 

"And...?" 

Phantom didn't reply, closing his eyes. 

"Who was your son?" 

"His name was Sephlan. Now he calls himself Obscurmalo." 

Christine nodded. "He was working with the Unseelie, and exposed Manya to them?" 

Phantom nodded. "They forced her to be turned into a mortal, and tortured her to death." 

Christine sighed. "I'm sure I haven't helped you any." 

"No!" Phantom started, "You've been a great help! I've gone years without knowing that I could ever... feel this way about someone." 

Christine sighed. Suddenly, Phantom clicked. 

"Then you went among the Dark Seelie, traveling with one?" 

"Yes. They did not know me until I started helping you." 

Christine nodded. "The Weird Sisters and Sharm?" 

"Sharm was ordered to prepare the way for someone to decide the case, completely at random. She and I were supposed to be working together, but she had her own... way about doing things. Sharm became attached to Terra, and decided you were the best one. Oberon ordered the Weird Sisters to put your memory back together." Phantom explained. "They still have a grudge though on humanity for something back when gargoyle first came to Avalon a thousand years ago." 

"And your mission was...?" 

Phantom shifted uncomfortably. "To bring you to Oberon." 

Christine sensed his discomfort. "Where does my baby come into this?" 

Phantom winced. "The dark Seelie - including the Weird Sisters - think of you as nothing but an insect - a lower life form. They have little consolation about artificial insemination - using you like breeding cattle. That's how the Unseelie feel about all mortals. The Seelie are more honorable." 

Christine winced. 

Phantom smiled. "Now that Oberon has accepted you, no matter what the others think, they will respect -- even fear you." 

Christine gave a sigh of relief. "Not what I was hoping, but better than nothing." 

"It was the best I could do." 

"Thank you." 

There was an uncomfortable silence. 

"Chr... Christine?" Phantom stuttered. 

"Yes?" she asked, with a slight tone of annoyance. 

"How... uh, mad are you?" 

Christine blinked, turning to face him. "Mad?" Christine sighed. "Alright, I'm mad. Not too mad, though. Nobody has the courtesy to tell me what was going on -- because they couldn't. What exactly did Macaren have to do with all this?" 

"He... was one of Obscurmalo's. Shakespeare had them floating all around the world for the last three hundred years for him to use now and try and slip you up." 

"Was Macaren also a fay?" 

"No. He was a gargoyles turned human, turned back when you were young - you remember the rest from there. Lisonja was a member of your rookery recruited by the same people, but I think she's come over to our side." 

"Come over?" 

Phantom smiled. "I'll show you." He held out his hand. 

Christine took it. She didn't know why, exactly, but she did. Phantom took her by the paw, and led her to one of the guest rooms in that part of Oberon's castle. He knocked on one door. There was a voice from inside, and Phantom opened the door and went inside. 

"Hello?" he asked. "I've a guest for you two!" 

Christine entered the room, behind Phantom, curious. In the room, standing up from two chairs, were two other gargoyles. One was white, the other black. 

"Malcora!" They exclaimed gleefully. 

"Joseph? Lisonja!" Christine shouted, with surprise, rushed forward, and tried to hug them both with her arms and wings. 

There were delighted, talkative noises for several moments as Christine caught up with Lisonja (after two years), and Joseph (after three hundred years). 

Christine then noticed something. In a small manger in one corner of the room, was an egg. 

A gargoyle egg. 

Christine turned to Lisonja, confused. "Both of you were born different races..." 

"There are really two classes of transformations -- three if you count simple illusions." Phantom explained. "Theirs were both complete changes - on a cellular and genetic level." 

"Yes, she was quite a sorceress then, wasn't she?" Lisonja asked, touching Christine's cheek, looking at Sir Joseph with a sly look. 

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "That reminds me. It's time we start you learning some new magic, Christine. You haven't practiced in - what - 300 years?" 

Christine didn't reply for a moment, deciding if this was a good thing. She smiled eventually. "Finally! What took you so long to decide?" 

Phantom smiled, and motioned Christine to follow him out again. "Wait! Why are you two here, Joseph?" 

Lisonja laughed. "Why silly, we're here for you're (muffled)." Phantom put his hand over the dark gargoyle woman's mouth just as she spoke the last word. 

Joseph looked at Phantom. Christyne folded her arms, waiting for an explanation. 

"One last secret." Phantom smiled. 

  
  


Christine appeared in the main hall, the following evening, looking for Phantom. She found him as Arion, dashing about the hall overseeing decorations. 

"What's the occasion?" Christine asked, almost laughing at how comical the serious gargoyle looked zooming around with sailboat ears. 

He looked at her with a straight expression. "Oh... just getting ready." 

"For what?" 

"Uh... you're going to hate me for this..." 

"What's to say I don't already?" Christine laughed. 

"No no no, I mean really hate me for this. I mean you'll want to kill me." 

Christine folded her arms, grinning. "Who says I don't want to already? I've tried it before. 

Arion hovered in front of her for a moment, with a puzzled expression, thinking. "Christine, I want you to go into Sir Joseph and Lisonja's room, and find me the vase that they keep on the dresser." 

Christine now wore a similar puzzled expression. "Well, okay." 

Christine got down on all fours and climbed the stairs to their room. Arion watched her go, smiling largely. 

Christine wasn't sure about this. Phantom was serious for even for a trickster, but this was getting ridiculous. Why was she running errands for him? Why on earth... or Avalon... did Phantom need a vase? 

The vase on Lisonja's dresser was covered with enamel flowers, and contained nothing she could see. Christine picked it up. 

There was a note underneath it. Christine was ready to forget the note, and turn away, until she noticed her name scrolled across it. 

Curious, she picked it up. 

  
  


"Where the lights of day 

fade away 

In the fiery lake 

of the red drake. 

There you'll find me." 

  
  


Christine was baffled. She returned to the hall to find it empty, and completely decked out for some form of elegant gathering. She left the vase. She walked on through, and back out the mirror to the remainder of the castle. 

"Sounds like a riddle to me." Raphael commented, when she asked a few of the older gargoyles about it. 

Christine agreed. "What does it mean?" 

And why lead her on a wild goose chase? 

"Fiery Lake may mean the Ares Volcano to the west." Raphael suggested. 

Christine considered that. "Where the lights of day fade away. Red drake?" 

Raphael shrugged. 

"Tell Gabriel where I'm going." she replied, taking to the air. 

The other female gargoyle nodded. 

Christine found herself heading west across Avalon, toward a certain range of mountains against the sea shore. It wasn't long before she found a steaming mountain with a large crater at it's peak. Upslope near the top, she discovered a small cave chiseled away from the stone. Around it's door post, and carved on the large wooden entrance was a winged snake breathing fire, painted crimson. 

Christine landed here. The door would not open, and she could see any sign of how to open it. Christine snarled in frustration, and screamed into the air. "Gagh! I've had it!" 

The door opened a smidgen. 

Christine stopped. It had moved when she screamed. 

She screamed again, this time at the gate. It paused, and moved again, only on a certain pitch. 

Ah hah! It was a trick! Christine took a deep breath, and tested the pitches with her voice, until she found one high enough that opened the gate. She was positively breathless when it was open, but she was surprised how good it had sounded. Either her voice had changed in her metamorphosis, she'd grown up and learned to use it more, or else it had something to do with Avalon. Christine stepped inside, and theorized it was all three. 

There was a long corridor. The cave was warm, and smelled of sulfur. It was a long tunnel, and Christine's eyes, although she could see well enough to walk through the darkness, could make out nothing but stone. 

Finally, she reached the end of the tunnel, at a corridor. There was a light there. A sword was embedded in the wall here, glowing. 

Christine scowled. "It ain't Excalibur, that's for sure." She doubted she could pull it from the wall even if it was. 

There was a note attached to it. 

Christine rolled her eyes. "Here we go again." 

  
  


"The pool in the glade 

demands the sword 

and then you 

shall have your reward." 

  
  


"Oh, you mean I get something out of this? So left, or right?" Christine sighed. She turned to the sword, and touched it. 

It slid into her hand. 

Christine shrugged it off. The sword dimmed when she tried to head to the left side, so she turned and went to the right. It just led her to another cave opening, and out into the open again. She spread her wings and glided out as the wind would take her. 

Sure enough, a downdraft deposited her in the center of a glade in the middle of the forest, with a small circular pool. Christine shrugged, and flung the sword into the middle of it. 

That much was self evident. The question was if she really wanted the reward? 

Christine folded her wings and arms, and waited. 

As she expected -- she was getting better at this -- the pool flashed with light in the dark night air. The light almost seemed to leap out at her. When it faded, she found herself standing, not in the glade, but in the main hall. 

Phantom was kneeling before her, in Arion form, with a very formal tunic on. Christine found herself dressed in, not the leathers, but her mother's wedding dress, magically repaired and resown to fit her precisely with her wings and everything. Belted around her waist, in a white scabbard was the sword she had found. 

Phantom, or Arion, was holding a small package out to her, in one hand - with a note attached. Phantom was grinning. Dubious, she accepted the box and the note. She unfolded the note, noticing the entire Seelie court of fairy assembled behind her, and Oberon and his queen on the dais, watching her. She read the note. It contained only four words. 

  
  


Will you marry me? 

  
  


Inside the box was a large diamond ring, brimming with magic. Christine turned back to Phantom. "You're right. I'm going to kill you." Oberon gave a large laugh. Phantom's eyes were large and importuning. 

"...but the answer," Christine nodded, "is yes." 

  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


The wedding was the worst kind Christine could ever have imagined... 

  
  


Big. 

  
  


Worst of all, they had been preparing for it for months. 

THEY HAD KNOWN, darn it all! Every single one of them! 

Christine would have killed him, and her gargoyle nature mixed with her desire to strangle the living heck out of him was combated by only the simple fact that it was pointless trying to kill a full-blooded fay. 

Well, not really kill him... she did love him, after all... maybe play around with him for a while. The mortal tricking the trickster? Tempting... 

Luckily, the wedding dress survived until the wedding night. It just didn't seem fair! Phantom already knew exactly what she looked like in her wedding dress! Then again, he might have known the first instance he met her, what she looked like in her wedding dress. He was an immortal fay, after all. Couldn't he see these things? 

Her parents were going to kill her. Well, mother was dead -- big deal she could make of it. Her father was a gargoyle-slayer anyway so the statement was completely rhetorical in his case. 

Christine was obviously confused. Yet, every time she thought about it, it felt right. Needless to say, there she was, being escorted by Sir Joseph, with what seemed like every blasted fay in existence in the audience, down the aisle at the wedding. So THIS is why Oberon had gathered all the fay from the outside world back to Avalon. 

Oberon was presiding. Mandy and Lisonja teamed up to be flower girls. Mandy rode in the basket throwing flower petals about, playful as a kitten, as Lisonja carried the basket down the aisle. 

Clearly, Mandy approved. She would! 

Christine sweated through the entire ceremony. The fay had a lot of unusual customs associated with marriages, and Oberon seemed to feel them necessary. Christine, at least, decided not to mind it -- after all Oberon had consented to let his son marry a mortal woman. 

For Christine, that was enough. 

Just to be with him. He was enough. 

He was perfect. 

  
  


"I do." 

"And you, mortal Christine Patya Shelton, take Arion to be your eternally wedded husband?" 

No bit about "life do you part", Christine considered. 

Phantom would live a lot longer than she, and go on to other wives, and other lives. She would be his toy, practically, if he ever got angry. 

When, in the three years now she had known him, had he ever been angry? He didn't get angry, except at enemies. He always seemed to know what was best. He was even steady... as steady as a fay can get, anyhow. Steadier than all his brothers and sisters combined. A bit stiff, perhaps. Perfect. 

Perfect. 

"I do." 

  
  


Christine leaned over, and took the ring from a fay that appeared to be a dark haired man in his thirties from ancient Japan. Phantom's mother handed Christine Phantom's ring. He was in gargoyle form for the wedding, as she was. Phantom's old ring, the one Christine had used to generate a magical laser, sat on one of his talons again. It was the wedding ring Manya had given him. Now, Christine added a ring of gold and jade next to it, like the jade of her amulet, set with salmon and pink stones, like her coloring. 

Phantom had given her a pure white diamond, a magical one. She didn't know why, but Phantom whispered in her ear that it was a tool, not a decoration. 

Now, it was the fay tradition, for new husband to present his bride to the assembled court. Phantom and Christine turned to face them. 

"My bride! The Lady Christyne!" He announced, emphasizing her new name. 

She nodded. "I was just getting used to being Christine Shelton again..." 

Phantom blinked, and shrugged it off. 

"MILORD PHANTOM." she curtsied before the court. They roared with applause. She leaned over to Phantom. "Friendly, aren't they?" 

"Just don't get them in a bad mood." Phantom advised. 

"You'll protect me from your relatives?" she whispered, smiling sweetly at them, waving, while her arm was linked with Phantom's. 

"Of course. However, you are already protected - by Oberon's decree you are of the Honor Guard now..." 

Christyne kissed him. Phantom scooped her up in his arms, and although he was in gargoyle form, he allowed himself to rise off the floor, up, and through the hatch in the glass ceiling which he had left open an hour before. 

Phantom's blue wings snapped open sharply, he banked, and he flew off effortlessly into the night's sky beyond Avalon, heading for the stars. 

"Where are we going?" she asked, exasperated. 

"Lady Christyne, we are going where no man has gone before!" 

Her eyes widened, looking at the stars looming before them. "UP?!!!" 

"All the way up!" Phantom exclaimed. 

The Lady Christyne hung on tight. 

  
  


  
  


Section Three: Mandy's Discovery

  
  


  
  


From below, on the sea shore at Avalon, Mandy-the-cat watched them go with sad, beady eyes, as tricksters of a thousand varieties spelled out "Just Married" in stars, and dropped tin cans all over the rocks on the beach. 

They were going to party all night. 

Mandy nestled down in the grass, sadly. No need for a reception -- everyone had been at the wedding! In fact, Mandy knew how "Lady Christyne" had seen the ghosting shape hanging above the wedding-goers during the ceremony -- the red ghosting figure of Tutela herself. 

Not even her mother had missed the wedding, Mandy thought. 

  
  


She was going to be bored, she thought sadly, while they were gone. 

  
  


Moody, and nondescript was how the Fairy Queen found her. Out of nowhere she appeared, and gently picked up the cat, stroking her fur gently. Mandy was entranced at her touch, and purred. 

"It's alright, Mandy." the immortal woman whispered. "They will return soon enough. Meantime, you have a task to perform." 

  
  


The Fairy Queen reappeared inside one of many luxury suites inside the castle -- only this one was intended for Queen's pet cat "Thom", a grey non-decrepit male with a white streak down his tail. 

The Fairy Queen left them alone. With nothing better to do, Mandy sat by the window, and watched the stars, her head on her paws. 

Beautiful night, no?

It was Thom, standing beside Mandy on the window sill. 

Yeah... if it weren't for the stars rearranging themselves...

The stars will be normal by tomorrow night. Oberon sees to that.

They're all immature.

...and Oberon knows it.

Thom's reassurance wasn't much, she sighed, but it helped. It wouldn't be that bad, she hoped. 

  
  


The kitchen was the original self-serve -- whatever you wanted appeared. Mandy became so fed up with what she wanted, that she snuck through the mirror in the main hall, and stepped into the kitchen there. 

It was morning in Avalon now, and the gargoyles were asleep. The Princess was mainly just cleaning up in there. The gargoyles had done most of the work before dawn, and there was little left to do. 

It was then that the princess discovered Lady Christyne's cat meowing by her foot, sitting pretty on it's haunches. 

The elder woman laughed. "What, midear? Do not Oberon and his folk feed you properly?" 

She picked up the cat, delightedly. She read the name "Mandy" from her collar, and wondered what it meant. From a rack of drying spices, the woman selected a bite of catnip, teased it in front of Mandy for a moment, and let Mandy catch it. 

Mandy dashed away with it in her mouth. 

It tasted tart. The good kind of tart -- where you love it, but it's so strong you can only stand so much. As for the remainder she didn't eat, she found a nice, peaceful corner behind a suit of armor in one hallway with a gargoyle upon it's breast and shield, tossed the sprig of catnip in the air, and tossed it again, and again, letting her bounce it into the air with her paws. 

Hey, chasing her tail was monotonous. Why not this? Perhaps she could get Thom to play Hide-and-Go seek with her. ANYTHING to break up the monot... 

"YOU CAN'T LET HER GET AWAY WITH IT!" a voice said. 

Startled, Mandy dropped her catnip, and listened. 

"Look, you. I sent my operative out as the contract agreed. That thrice-cursed witch slew him, and now has taken my father to wed." 

Mandy ears perked. What were they talking about? She could make out three men in dark cloaks, discussing the matter heatedly in one corner of the hall. 

"She's only a mortal. Arion is a fool to think that he can even protect her from us if we combine together." the first of the three was saying. 

"Once we subdue her, I can create the necessary blood mixture, and she will still bear my child." the second demanded. 

"Macaren was your best warrior, and Lisonja turned against you..." 

Mandy cursed, silently, and catlike. 

"They were both sickly, weak little mortals! Can't you see the mortals are nothing more than animals? They can serve us! That's the way it should be!" 

"Oberon agreed to let us have the humans if she bore..." 

"I know that, you fool! We must make it happen! There is time still until she delivers! A gargoyle egg takes ten years to hatch..." 

"But if it is human, we must be done in nine months. Humans are not born from eggs." 

"I can do a whole lot more with those little mortals than any almighty God ever could! Stronger, mindless and stupid to obey me, and put them back on all fours where they belong. Get rid of those cutesy little faces. Tails, too. The humans need tails. Who do they think they are, us? With those little squinty eyes and smooth foreheads. EW! They are so ugly! I can't wait to give all the mortals serious makeovers when it's my turn. They can't even fly... I mean, insects can fly, why can't they? They'd look so much more appealing with the wings of the common house fly!..." 

"Wait, Obscurmalo, that's it!" 

"Of course it is. What?" 

"Humans with wings... I mean, now who is Lady Christyne?" 

"A mortal, you fool." 

"Yes, I know that. What kind, though?" 

Obscurmalo bristled. "A gargoyle, why does it matter?" 

"She was human once, though." 

"Her birth was from an egg, fool." 

"But she bore a human's name once, Christine P. Shelton!" 

"So, revert her to it!" 

"Change her back into a human, and make the blood of the child Arion bears change also." the third suggested. 

"It is within your power!" the second encouraged. 

"Very well then. If I fail, I will make sure the gargoyle Christine will die at my hands. You two begin slowly exterminating the gargoyles just as soon as we win and Oberon's edict no longer has any power over us. They are magical beings, and will interfere with our plans. Any that could place her with child." 

"Yes, Obscurmalo." the second complied. 

"What of Arion?" the third asked. 

"He killed your friend, Shakespeare." 

Obscurmalo sighed. "Shakespeare was the best in getting what he wanted. I'll see that Arion gets what's coming to him." 

The three separated, and vanished into the air. 

Mandy, trembling, crept out into the air. It was impossible... Could they DO that? 

  
  


...she had to get to Christyne before they did! Cat or no cat! 

  
  


  
  


It was a month later when Christyne and Phantom returned, and by that time Mandy was worried that bad guys had already gotten to her. 

She was dressed in her leathers again, but instead of being ashamed of her own explicitness, she flaunted it with great pride. The two always seemed to be glancing at the other and laughing at something. 

Mandy had seen them coasting in circles down from the sky toward Avalon from a window, and Mandy dashed out to meet them. 

"Hello, Mandy! Is this your welcome back?" Christyne asked chipperly. 

Mandy slashed at Christine's toe talons with her claws. 

"Hey! Do that any harder and you'll draw blood. Phantom, do you understand her?" 

Phantom morphed into Arion, and picked up the cat. 

"Whoa, slow down... yes... but how did you... I see..." he said, nodding at the cat. "He did... are you sure... well, alright, I don't see why not..." 

"What is it?" Christyne inquired. 

While holding the cat over his head, Phantom/Arion scowled at Mandy, and she began to change in his hands. After a few moments, Mandy, now the human being she had once been, dressed in a tight black sequined dress with a small cat's paw brooch on the collar and black heels, was being held in Phantom's arms above his head. 

"Satisfactory?" Phantom asked, changing back into his gargoyle self. 

Mandy nodded. "Yes, quite, thank you." Once down on her feet, Mandy turned back to Christyne, raced up to her, and they embraced. 

Christyne wrapped her wings around her for a moment. "You know, for once I don't envy you those wings anymore, but I miss my whiskers." 

Christyne laughed. "You were well suited as a cat. Now, what is this you're so anxious about?" 

"Obscurmalo seeks your life and Phantom's. He is planning the enslavement of humanity..." 

"What else is new?" Christyne asked sarcastically. 

"Let me finish... and he's sent operatives out to murder all the gargoyles in the world. He's going to try and make you have his child." 

Phantom snarled angrily. "He'll have to get past me first!" 

"He means to teach you your place." 

"As is he hasn't tried already." Phantom scowled. 

"How did you know I..." Christyne asked. 

"Everyone knows your pregnant. Don't ask me how." 

"What about you?" 

Mandy blushed furiously. "Well... nobody really ever noticed..." 

"Wait," Phantom interjected. "Mandy, you're pregnant too?" 

"Well... I kinda missed my period this month..." 

Christyne scowled. "To who?" 

Mandy looked down at the ground, turning several shades of ruby. "Thom." 

Phantom leaned back, and roared with laughter. 

"It's not funny! I always thought I was above this sort of thing! I planned to save myself for marriage!" 

"You, Mandy? Seriously?" Christyne laughed. 

"You had no choice, Mandy. Thom is supposed to make you fall madly in love with him. He's the queen's magical cat, after all." 

"You mean she put me under a spell?" 

"Yes." Christyne smiled. "I think she had a hand in me and Phantom too." 

"You're saying not only am I knocked up, but now I'm having kittens?" 

"Thom's a transformed human man from the third century that my mother was fond of - he made her laugh." Phantom replied, trying to hold a serious face, not even trying to hide how much Christyne had rubbed off on him. 

Mandy fainted, and Christyne caught her on the way down. 

  
  


The Fairy Queen really seemed genuinely apologetic about the entire situation -- she did that with all her cats out of habit. Christyne had muttered for a week about the fay being above developing bad habits, and so the Fairy Queen went to some pains to make up for the whole thing. She brought Lacey back. 

"Lacey!" Mandy exclaimed, hastily scooping up the cat that the Fairy Queen had delivered. "Where did you find her?" 

"Among friends, it seems." was all she said before she vanished. 

There was a long moment as Mandy and Lacey stared at each other, as Mandy held the cat in her hands. Then, quite suddenly, Mandy hissed angrily at the cat, and dropped her on the floor. Lacey promptly stuck her head and tail straight up proudly, and found a chair to curl up on. 

"The same to you, Lacey." Mandy nearly growled in anger at the cat. 

  
  


Several days later. 

  
  


"Where's Christyne?" Mandy asked, sticking her head into the room in the mortal's section where Christyne and Phantom made their current home, late that evening. 

"Haven't seen her since sundown. She's been going off with those three fates for the last week or so. They tell me their going to be borrowing her for a while." Phantom replied, sociably. Mandy was still getting used to Phantom's relaxed attitude. Ever since revealing his fay self and marrying Christyne, his personality had lightened from the dark, brooding gargoyle he had first appeared to be. Mandy doubted it was Christyne's doing -- she might have killed him if he suddenly changed on her! 

"Well, she's got visitors." Mandy said. "Your mother sent me to pass the message on to her." 

"I'll pass it on, don't worry. Show her guests to their rooms for now." 

"But Phantom, these two are really impatient. They're demanding to see her now." 

Phantom raised an eyebrow, reminding Mandy of the serious side of him. "Mortals, I take it?" 

Mandy nodded, laughing. "I've yet to meet an impatient fairy. Two gargoyles, who claim to be searching for her." 

Phantom nodded. "Show them to their rooms, and if they insist upon being impatient, find some way to calm them. I can't deal with them right now." 

Mandy nodded. 

  
  


  
  


Christyne, robed in her new white blouse with gold trim and her new sword, placed her hands on her hips and twitched her tail with annoyance. "You wanted to see me?" 

The two gargoyles hanging in mid air in the middle of a guest suite suddenly came alive. "What is the meaning of all this humiliation?" 

Christyne leaned against the doorpost, enjoying Phantom's sense of humor. "I imagine someone didn't want to deal with you as soon as you demanded it." 

"Do you have the power to let us down?" 

Christyne clapped her hands, and the two gargoyles collapsed onto the floor below. They recovered quickly, standing. Christine draped her wings and closed the door behind her. "Now, once more. You wanted me?" 

Before Christyne stood a very beautiful blue gargoyle with an enormous mass of red hair, dressed in loincloth, gold jewelry, and a crown. She was flanked by a very bright yellow and orange gargoyle with peach feathered wings. 

"Do you know us?" the blue one inquired. 

"Oh course, my queen. It has been a long time, hasn't it?" 

"Our quest has been long, now that we have learned you live again." 

Christyne scowled, and walked up to this blue one. They faced one another for a few moments, until suddenly the blue gargoyle cried out, holding the sides of her head. The other was alarmed, and pointed her weapon in Christyne's direction. 

"You left me to die, your highness. To the mercy of the humans you so despised! 

I lost my life to them that day! I may have well have been shattered with the rest of my clan!" 

"I was... trying to teach them... a lesson..." she retorted desperately. 

"Oh, I'm sure they've learned, now that each of them occupy another plane of existence! You betrayer!" 

"LEAVE OFF!" the sun-bright one demanded. 

Christyne scowled at her. She was very modest looking, but Christyne could sense a hidden power in her. "Very well. I do not know you, but do not interfere in the coming battle. I have duties to see to. You may stay here as long as you like. Just don't get in our way and make sure you leave before the battle." 

With that, Christyne vanished in an array of magic. 

"It seems much has changed from what we knew of her." the blue one muttered as the other helped her to her feet. 

"Yes, Cearda. Be patient. She will come around, eventually." 

  
  


Nine months later. 

  
  


"No no no! I don't care what lies he's been feeding you, father, but he broke the treaty blatantly when he attacked Christyne last week. He doesn't care about our traditions, or the treaty between us. He just wants you to give him what he wants, and he'll stab each of us through the heart to do it." Phantom protested wildly, flaring his arms around him, with a deadly serious face. 

"Just because your son is on the opposite side of this issue, does not make him a traitor to me." Oberon said. 

"Father, I take an attack on her as an attack on me! After all, you stand everything to gain from what I'm doing!" 

"That may be so, but there is little I am bound to do until your mortal completes her end of the bargain, and bears the child or the egg -- telling which it is, human or gargoyle." 

"It's too late by then! What if Obscurmalo tries to change the child, and the outcome." 

"Once outside of the mother, I will declare it my protectorate. However, while still within her womb, the child is fair game. I made no rules." 

"Does it mean nothing to you that it is my child as well?!!!" Phantom burst. 

"ARION! Calm yourself. I cannot give you leave. However, I will have you know my Queen is not so bound. Take your request to her." 

Phantom, a bit startled that Oberon would leave Titania out of anything, suddenly saw the secret behind Oberon's serious face. He was tricking the Dark Seelie. Phantom bowed to Oberon, and vanished. 

  
  


"Paugh! You don't weigh as much as you think, Christyne." Mandy laughed. 

"You're just being nice." Christyne grumbled, as she leaned on Mandy for support walking down the hallways. "I am only good in the air, where -- this -- doesn't get in the way." 

Mandy laughed. "Easy for you to say! I don't have wings! Try living with it! You were human once..." 

Mandy had discovered, long ago, that her ebony silk dress with the cat's paw clasp had the magical properties of a fairy's dress. It never got dirty, never tore, never looked anything but shiny and new, and best of all, it stretched with her widening girth. 

Christyne's amicable mood had left her, and she saw no humor in it. None of her clothes had fit except the white blouse, and so she was forced to wear it religiously, as she kept asking, day after day, for some way to expand her wardrobe. In comparison to the human, who was still a month behind the gargoyle, Christyne had been reduced to being, what Christyne called, an "overweight beach ball with arm, legs, and wings". 

She had lost her amicable second nature, becoming listless, grouchy, and irritable. She seemed to have developed a permanent ache in her back, and she took it out on Phantom most often. Phantom, unlike any other fay on Avalon, took her harsh words to heart, and sulked about the island on his own. Christyne had even snapped at Oberon himself at a large dinner gathering. Fortunately, Oberon had only laughed at her restlessness. The gargoyle woman spent a lot of time in bed. 

Somehow, Mandy stayed chipper, pregnancy or no pregnancy. 

In between, Christyne was laid up in bed rest, only to get up every morning just before sunrise and stand by her and Phantom's room window, as the sun rose. 

Christyne had been nearly eight when Terra had been pregnant with Keturah, and she remembered Tutela's pregnancies vividly. She had heard it described many times how the child would kick -- as a child she had remembered feeling her mother's belly for the small kicks. There were also the eggs her mother had lain as Tutela, though young Malcora had understood even less about it at the time. 

Now that she was the one who was pregnant, Christyne didn't think the baby kicked, but clawed at her insides. There was something else, though. Something she couldn't quite describe took place. There were thoughts there -- feelings that Christyne knew had to belong to the baby. If it was some effect of Phantom's magic, or part of being a gargoyle, Christyne didn't know -- only that she had never before heard of such a thing. 

Mandy heaved a sigh of relief as she deposited Christyne against her bed post, where she stood for a moment, catching her breath. Christyne was holding her arm behind her, rubbing her sore spine in pain. 

Mandy clucked, and somehow managed to put her own arms around Christyne, find a spot on her back, and pull back hard. There was a loud cracking noise, and Christyne straightened. 

"Feel better?" Mandy asked. 

Christyne blinked. "Actually, yes. How do you do that?" 

"Don't mention it." Mandy replied, sitting down on a chair as Christyne thumped thankfully down on the feather bed Phantom had given her. 

"It won't be long now." Christyne sighed. "I'm worried." 

"Why?" 

"Because there's no shell yet. Mother used to stop feeling the kicks almost half a moon before she laid the egg. Unless something's gone wrong..." 

"Don't even think it." Mandy shushed her. "Obscurmalo's magic was counteracted after the attack -- you know that. If Phantom says that everything will be alright, you know he means it." 

"I know... but I still wish... mother were here." 

Mandy sighed, remembering the wedding. "I think she's around somewhere. You just need to wait for her to come to you." 

Christyne sighed now, and after a few moments, fell blissfully asleep as a gargoyle could without turning to stone. Mandy, anxious to be moving on, heaved herself out of the chair, and left the room. 

It was many hours until morning began to approach. Christyne found herself dreaming. She dreamed of her mother, tall, serious, and gentle -- like Phantom. She saw herself in her mother's face now... 

She also saw someone else, a shimmering, indistinct figure Christyne could not make out. Somehow, it had it's own thoughts, and Christyne could hear it's thoughts and feelings. 

Her mother's voice whispered to her softly. 

"Christyne..." 

"I'm here, mother..." 

"Be brave, my child..." 

"Mother..." 

The replying voice was lost in whispering echoes. 

Christyne stirred, and opened her eyes. Habitually, she knew the dawn was coming. She pulled herself out of bed, and leaned against the stonework of the windows sill. 

Inside herself, she could feel the crackling begin, as she once again turned to stone with the rising sun. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Is she stone, milady?" 

"Yes, Tutela." 

"Then we must act now. The time has run out." 

"Even stone can be nurtured, good mother." 

With that, the fairy queen's lifeforce entered Christyne's frozen body. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The commotion was horrendous, and Phantom hated the crowd. He wanted to go back to his apartment, where Christyne was, but it was pointless -- the sun was up, and she was stone. 

Besides, this meeting was too important right now. 

There were two groups of fey gathered in the council hall. Two full courts were gathered here, the Seelie Court, and those who would defect to the Unseelie court. 

This was the day. 

Phantom saw the son he had disowned, at the head of the traitors - Sephlan, now calling himself Obscurmalo, and was trying not to look at him. He was angry. He'd probably been storming, angry and bitter, ever since he had tried to transform Christyne again, and Phantom had been there, thanks to Mandy's warning, to stop him. 

Oberon called the meeting together. He was short and concise in his speaking. He criticized both sides for going beyond the limits of the contract, and warring like mortals, not fay. They were above squabbling, and one day all three races would live together, and he wanted HIS children to set a good example for the mortals. 

  
  


  
  


Christyne awoke from stone with a yell of triumph and a cry of pain. She fell backwards onto the stone floor, and rolled over. There was something wet on her legs. She cried out again, claws digging into the stone floor. Laboriously, she crawled out of the apartment, into the hallway. 

She screamed, a loud roar of pain. Her tail lashed about furiously, slapping the walls, the floor, and smashing displays on the wall. 

Mandy heard the noise, and came rushing as fast as she could. The elderly human Princess Katherine, and five of the other gargoyles appeared from the opposite end of the hall. Christyne lay writhing on the floor, screaming, as a piercing green light shone from the flesh of her abdomen. 

  
  


  
  


Despite the boredom of his fay peers, Phantom found Oberon's little discourse rather interesting. None were truly omniscient, but Oberon's insights were many. However, everyone was intrigued when the green skinned fairy queen suddenly appeared by Oberon's side, and whispered into his ear. Oberon shook his head in approval, and the queen vanished again. Immediately, Phantom's interest was perked. 

Of course, though. He knew what was happening. 

  
  


  
  


"Something is terribly wrong! A gargoyle birth does not require nearly as much pain!" 

Mandy tried desperately to ignore her anxiousness, trying to concentrate on the problem. 

"Human or gargoyle, Sariah, we get the child out safely." the princess rebuked her. 

There was another burst of energy, and this time the humans and gargoyles around Christyne were thrown backwards. 

"There is too much magic at work in this birthing!" Jesse exclaimed. 

"All will be well." said a calm, finalistic voice. All turned to see the green skinned fairy queen standing over them. "This is my daughter-in-law, and my granddaughter is my responsibility." 

The gargoyles bowed and stepped back for the Queen of the Third Race, Titania. Mandy motioned to one of the other female gargoyles. "Eve, bring me some blankets, and something to put the child on. The rest of you stand guard. I want NO interruptions." 

Eve bowed. "I will find you whatever I can, even it if be a manger to lay the babe in." 

Mandy sighed. "Lets hope that there's more than that in a fairy castle. However, I'm sure Christyne will appreciate the thought." 

The fairy queen nodded. "You may assist me, Mandy. Hopefully, she will yet live through this birth." 

"Live through it?!..." 

"The child she bears is an immortal half-fay. Her mortal frame is not built for such a delivery. It is doubtful she will survive. If she herself were part fay it would be easier, but these are the hardest halfling births." 

  
  


  
  


Even Oberon paused for a moment, to listen to the panther-like screams coming from deep within the bowels of the castle. They grew louder, and more piercing with each passing minute, until, finally, there was silence. 

Obscurmalo, and his Unseelie-lovers cheered. "Hurray! We have won by default! The mortal was unable to deliver the fay child, and both have died!" 

The Unseelie-supporters rippled with the news, and began to cheer and laugh with pride and arrogance. They jeered the loyal followers of Oberon with open hostility, and Oberon scowled at their lack of humility before him. 

Obscurmalo approached Phantom with a dark air. His features were Phantom's own -- but darkly twisted by Obscurmalo's own hatred and desires. He stood before the gargoyle/fay, and hit him. Phantom, surprised by the sudden attack, slid across the floor with a loud grunt of surprise. 

"Sephlan!" 

"Traitor, father! Now you and your precious harlot will bow to us!" 

Obscurmalo hit him again. 

"HOLD SEPHLAN, SON OF ARION!" Mandy's voice, clear and ringing like a bell, bounced through the room. She hung in the air over their heads, holding something in her arms. Yet, it wasn't Mandy... someone was there in her place... someone ruby red with double wings... "BEHOLD! LADY CHRISTYNE LIVES! AND THIS IS ARION'S PROGENY! TANYA DESTINE PHANTOM!" 

  
  


  
  


Mandy removed the white silk sheets from atop the pristine egg. 

  
  


  
  


A gargoyle's egg. 

  
  


* * *

"I'm sorry, Phantom..." Mandy sighed, holding her head. "I don't know what came over me. I suddenly had this urge to talk in 'thee's and 'thou's." 

"It's alright... I was expecting that..." 

"You expect everything." 

"Mandy, what good is it to be immortal and not at least have some idea know what's coming? I may not be omniscient, but I have had some experience in these things." 

"You're NOT omniscient? Sounds like it takes all the fun out of immortality." 

"Why else do I like being a mortal?" Then, for the hundredth time that hour, Phantom took Christyne's paw in hand, and touched his cheek with it, tenderly. 

Christyne's hair was an obvious mess, and Christyne was shivering under the covers, unconscious. 

Mandy sighed. "Now I suppose it's my turn." 

"Don't complain. At least humans get to hold their children once their born. We have to wait ten years." 

"You could always change." 

"Christyne is a gargoyle, and I think she'd prefer to remain that way." 

Mandy chortled. "Climbing walls with steel ripping talons, and turning to stone everyday. Hardly what the old Christine was looking for in life." 

"Don't laugh." Phantom sighed. "She's happy." 

"How can you tell?" 

"I can tell." 

"Ph... Phantom?" Christyne's wavering voice was heard. 

"Christyne!" Mandy and Phantom replied with excitement. 

"You're awake!" Mandy exclaimed. 

Phantom noted, picking up the clothes with the egg nestled in them, handing them to Christyne. Christyne, though weak, held the egg tenderly, rubbing her paws across it's surface. Mandy couldn't help but smile. 

It didn't last long, for Christyne was soon fast asleep, the egg cradled warmly in her arms. Seeing this, Phantom sighed, with a large smile on his face, stood up, and left. 

  
  


Mandy had nearly fallen asleep herself when Christyne stirred again. 

"Did I say... everything I remember I said?" she whispered. 

Mandy nodded. "You were very uncomplimentary to that poor boy of yours." 

"Tell him... I'm sorry." 

Mandy laughed. "It wasn't entirely your fault! You were trying to have a half-fay egg. The fairy queen herself performed the delivery, because of all the magic flying around." 

Christyne nodded. "It hurt... so hot... like something burning you alive from your inside out..." 

Her voice trailed off. 

"Well, if you think you can manage it, there's something I was going to suggest to improve your little magic weapon..." 

  
  


Two nights later. 

  
  


It was Phantom's turn to sit by her bedside. He found himself contemplating various sundry matters, when someone came to the door. They'd done it, he mused. The Unseelie-supporters were banned from Avalon to join the other Unseelie. Phantom's own son had been banished with them. For that, he mourned. 

There was a knock at the door. 

"Yes?" 

One of his sisters opened the door. "Arion?" 

"Hmm?" 

One of the gargoyles attended. 

"Yes, sister?" 

"Someone to see you." 

Phantom nodded. "Very well." he said, rising from his chair. The gargoyle female turned and left. He turned back to Christine a moment. He would have to find a way to take her back to 1255 on vacation someday after this was all over. He really owed it to her. 

  
  


Christyne awakened, if only for a moment. She was aware of Phantom by the door, and something -- Phantom was between her and it -- something dark -- she couldn't make it out. She squinted, waiting for her vision to clear... 

  
  


The blast rocked the entire island. From the pools in the east, to Oberon's private study, the island felt it's anger. The fireball threw a fay and gargoyle nearly a thousand meters through the air, with stone shards flying everywhere. There were obviously still traitors elsewhere on Oberon's peaceful little island! 

Christyne felt herself snap her wings open, out of sheer gargoyle instinct, and gasped as she felt the wind pick her up before she collided with the rocky mountain slope below. She was gliding at breakneck speeds away from the fire. She wondered why she was not burned by it's engulfing flames, until she saw Phantom, in the form of Arion, fighting desperately with his magic to shield them both. 

His shield was failing. 

"GIVE IT UP, FATHER! I AM EVER MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU!!!" 

"I am NOT your father! You ceased being my son when you betrayed your own mother!" 

"SHE KNEW THE PRICE FOR HER CRIME!" 

"She was doing what was right! That is never a crime! You mindlessly killed her!" 

"SO WHAT DO YOU DO? GO RUNNING OFF WITH A MORTAL HARLOT? YOU ARE A SORRY ONE TO TALK, ARION!" 

Christyne could make out the dark shape of Obscurmalo. Suddenly, Christyne's pulse jumped, and her eyes filled with rage. 

"I am not a harlot!!!" Christyne managed to scream in return. 

Obscurmalo, as though unable to her hear the angry noise, ignored her, and he and Arion clashed. There was the wringing of some kind of blade, but when Christyne looked, they clashed with blades of light and darkness. 

Christyne, without even thinking about her lessons, immediately called upon her focal energy, and in a halo of pure white magical energy, Shakespeare's crown appeared woven into her hair, glowing with energy. With a rush of energy, she clasped her paws together in the air in front of her. Her ragged maternity shirt vanished, and was replaced by the pristine white and gold gargoyle dress the trio had given her before her pregnancy. A jade jeweled amulet appeared upon her breasts, also radiating power. She held her hand out, and Phantom's ring appeared on her finger, brilliant sapphire. Christyne suddenly turned around, to face this enemy for the last time. 

Phantom found himself suddenly at a loss. He couldn't protect Christyne, and as he suddenly found himself unable to even fend for his own life! Manya had been very careful in the bearing of her son, to see that their child would benefit from his power. Obscurmalo swung downward again, and Phantom failed to notice his own blood fly and splatter against Christyne's pristine dress. What Phantom did notice was Christyne descending from higher altitudes of the night sky, screaming her call of anger with the high-pitched call of an angry tiger. Obscurmalo barely turned around when suddenly the wave of energy hit him. 

"STOP, OBSCURMALO! I LOVE HIM!" 

Phantom was thrown backwards, shocked at the power of the blast. Almost as if it were an enormous hand, the magic emanating from the point of her talon grabbed Obscurmalo like a doll, tore his magic from him. Obscurmalo began to spin in the air, his pointed ears faded, and his coloring faded away to the paleness of a human face. 

Phantom flew down, produced a wicked looking one-handed blade that looked sharper than any razor, Phantom snarled as if he were a gargoyle still, brought back his arm, and smote off the head of his now-mortal son. 

  
  


Oberon clapped. "Bravo!" 

Arion watch his son's body fall, eyes filled with anger. "ALL OF YOUR EVIL KIND LEAVE ME AND MY BELOVED ALONE!" 

Phantom blinked, returned to gargoyle form, and fluttered to the ground, hovering over the splattered remains like a vulture, waiting for Obscurmalo to dare make a move. 

Oberon waved his hand, and the lifeless body was consumed as the earth of Avalon reached up and pulled it down. Phantom looked up to see his father watching him with eyes filled with pride. Phantom's anger faded as he uncannily changed took control of his anger, and bowed before Oberon. 

"She is truly worthy to be my daughter in law now. From now on - no other interference! Lady Christyne is a part of my honor guard, and therefore will be immune to my arts, and those of my family." He nodded, and vanished into the night. 

Christyne! Where was she? Phantom's mind raced, and with his magic he broadcasted a pulse, searching for her. All at once, his magic reflected the most incredible glare of energy it nearly blinded him. 

Christyne, upside down, with wings, arms, and legs flailing, fell like a stone to the earth. Phantom slung out his magic, and caught her. He ran to her side. 

She was unconscious, and radiating white-hot magical energy from every part of her body. Phantom reached over and slipped his own ring off her paw, and onto his once again, where it belonged. The light surrounding Christyne faded, and all was dark as night again. Christyne stirred for only a moment. Her eyes, once open, were like two beacons in the night, radiating all the pure magical energy she had absorbed, transforming a full-blooded fey into simple mortal. 

Christyne nodded to one side, and fell into sleep again. 

The Queen of fairy was there all at once, touching her son's shoulder. "Let her sleep." she commanded. "In the new evening shall her eyes be opened, and her lips will prophesy." 

Phantom nodded. "That's my kitten." he told her unconscious form, stroking her hair. "My cat." 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Midnight. Not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone. In the lamp light the withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. 

Memory. All alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days. 

I was beautiful then. 

I remember the time I knew what happiness was, let the memory live again. 

Every street lamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning. Someone mutters and a street lamp gutters and soon it will be morning. 

Daylight. I must wait for the sunrise, I must think of a new life, and I must mustn't give in. When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too. 

And a new day will begin. 

Burnt out ends of smoky days, the stale cold smell of morning. The street lamp dies, another night is over, another day is dawning. 

Touch me. It's so easy to leave me all alone with the memory of my days in the sun. If you touch me you'll understand what happiness is. Look, a new day has begun. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Epilogue

  
  


  
  


Oberon had, obviously, been able to repair the castle in seconds. However, he was more annoyed at the fact that someone had actually ignored his edict of non-interference with members of his honor guard, and instituted death as the punishment. 

Phantom ignored all this, and remained by Christyne's bedside day and night, stone and flesh, until she reawakened. Christyne, her eyes still rolling about in her head, found Phantom's face. She smiled. Phantom patted her paw. Now he knew she would be alright, given a day or two. 

Diana, one of Phantom's fey sisters, sat at his side. She had come to visit her brother after all the commotion that had occurred, and the topic eventually came to rest on Phantom's slumbering mate. 

"I think Sharm conditioned her spirit for nearly three hundred years to have the ability to channel that much power." Diana theorized, speaking to Arion. "In fact, I can almost say that there were three magics involved here. Titania's, Sharm's, and her own natural power." 

"Does she still have it?" 

"I looked. It's actually rather interesting. She channeled it all very naturally." 

"Into what?" 

"Herself." 

"How?" 

"Beats me. Only Titania can answer that." 

Christyne unconsciously turned over in her sleep. 

There was a knock at the door, and Phantom rose to answer it. 

A handsome human man of about twenty five was there, with a lot of brown hair and a beard was there. "Arion?" 

"Oh, hello Thom. How is Mandy?" 

"She went into labor about an hour ago, and I've yet to hear anything." 

Diana looked up at him. "Oh, they didn't tell you yet? You're a father." 

Thom blinked. 

Phantom smiled, flopping down into the chair, and draping his wing on the chair with sleepiness. "Of two daughters." 

"What are you two going to go?" Diana inquired, lightly. 

Thom, still adjusting from that last bit of news, blinked again. "We... were going to return to the mortal world, and let us both return to school." 

"You were in school?" 

"Before she turned me into her pet cat," Thom sighed, nodding indirectly to the Queen of Fairy. "I was studying to becoming an alchemist." 

"Chemist." Diana corrected. Phantom glanced at her with questioning eyes, chuckled, and fell asleep. "Get some sleep, Phantom." Diana noted. "You'll be needing it." 

After the door was closed, Phantom regarded Diana with a look combined of curiosity, and of the regard that a father gives a girl just come back from her first date. "Father Oberon often spoke to me that this quest would require the finding of a Phantom. You've followed all of this as much as Sharm has. Who do you think that was?" 

Diana leaned back, shooting back Phantom's glare. "Certainly not you!" she laughed. "No, more likely Christine's mother Tutela. She seemed to be the only one who was always guarding Christine." 

Phantom nodded in agreement. "Someday we must do something about her." 

Diana smiled. 

Phantom gazed down at the floor, turning introspective. "I think my mother would not let her keep that power, for she knows Christyne is but mortal. Yet, my mother would not idly keep it either. Somehow, it was given to Christyne in the form of a gift." 

Diana nodded again. "Prophesy." 

Phantom glanced up at her with a questioning gaze, then over at the figure in bed. "Prophesy..." he whispered, mostly to himself. 

  
  


  
  


Surely enough, Christyne recovered in a few weeks, and was impatient to get out of bed. Diana had been given charge to watch over her when Phantom had to run off and do his father's bidding, and she would put her to sleep or keep her in bed with magic. Christyne eventually felt consigned to her fate. 

When it was time to leave, Christyne tenderly touched the egg hidden deep in the cool, moist shadows of the rookery that the other gargoyles of the castle kept. She picked up the watermelon-shaped white pristine surface, cradling in her arms with care, and with love. Phantom held her shoulder. "We did it." he assured her. 

Christine looked at him and smirked, fangs showing in her wide grin. "What do you mean we did it? You had the easy part!" 

"We could keep yer egg here for ye." the human princess of the castle gargoyles said. "It would be perfectly safe here." 

"Nay." Phantom said, smiling. He was only looking across into Christyne's eyes. "I have an old friend who owes me a favor. We'll go to her. Besides, it's still under Oberon's spell as being 'off limits' to fay interference. I don't anticipate any trouble." 

Diana's eyes narrowed. "Mandy Conterra?" 

Phantom glanced at Diana with a confused expression. "No, another one." 

"Speaking of Mandys, where ours?" 

"She'll be along shortly. She's just barely out of bed." 

"We'll, she and Thom better hurry before they miss the train." 

"We're here." came Thom's excited, low, human voice. Mandy followed, sleek in her black ebony dress, with her hair let down, but held in back by a cat's paw clip similar to the one clasp on her dress. Mandy held two wrapped bundles, and Thom held a third. 

Two human babies, and a cat. 

"I see you found Lacey." Christyne observed. 

"I dunno, Chrissy. She just showed up while I was on bed rest." 

Christyne snorted, thinking one word. Sharm. 

"My Tom wishes you luck, Thom the cat." the princess said, taking Thom's hand. 

"Well, wish the guardian luck as well - for me." Thom nodded in a gentlemanly way. Mandy leaned against his shoulder as they looked into each other's eyes. 

Christyne's eyebrows went up. "Sorry, but I lost the kitty carrier months ago." 

Thom smiled. 

Christyne and Mandy embraced once more, Christyne embracing Mandy in her wings. "We'll be seeing you sooner than you think." 

Phantom smiled, and raised his hand. 

Mandy scowled. "How can you know that?" 

Lacey looked up at Mandy with an odd look in her eyes. "Oh, you shut up." Mandy told the cat. "I do not." 

Phantom brought his hand down, and the two human parents and their children and cat vanished into the mortal realm. Phantom turned, took Christyne's paw that was not holding the egg, preparing to leap into the air beyond the cliff. 

"Mind if I tag along?" Diana inquired. "Oberon will never let me out of here any other way." 

"PHANTOM! YOU HAVE TO COME BACK WITH ME!" Sharm's voice came startling across the air, and she came whizzing overhead. "Quickly! Before Oberon catches me here!" 

"What in the name of heaven and earth are you talking about, Sharm?" Phantom exclaimed in protest, disappointed at not being able to glide against with his wife. Sharm took Phantom's paw that was not holding Christyne, and began to pull him off the cliff into the air. 

"You HAVE to! I'm serious! This is big!" Sharm exclaimed emphatically, dragging her passengers higher into the sky. 

"Believe me," Christyne noted, spreading her wings. "It was the first thing we noticed about you." 

"I found it! I found it!" Sharm continued to exclaim wildly. 

"What, what?!!!" Phantom asked impatiently. 

"The toy I made! The Phoenix Gate! I finally found it! Come look what's happened to it!" 

Christine, not following this revelation in the slightest, shook her head, and began to anticipate the continuation of the long journey ahead of her. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Have you heard, have you heard?   
About this girl who was ripped up   
by her roots?   
Have you heard, what she learned?   
Like humility - you win when you lose. 

I have learned - I have learned   
The most horrifying nights have ends   
I was hurt, I was lost.   
In the dark I found the way to a friend. 

I am standing here in my ravine.   
Once again I see a piece of the sky   
And my joy'll never be denied   
'Cause I was meant to be here -   
The only place on earth   
Where you are near -- where you are near 

Was a flower, so frail -   
And I let the tress grow wild around me.   
Grew so high, hid the sky -   
Shaded everything I needed to see 

Then one night, someone came   
Took a knife and ripped me up by my roots   
Tossed astray, far away.   
In my darkest night I started to pray 

I am standing here in my ravine.   
Once again I see a piece of the sky   
And my joy'll never be denied   
'Cause I was meant to be here -   
The only place on earth   
Where you are near -- where you are near 

Why do you, why do you ask   
Why I'm not blaming my god?   
I'll tell you, I'll tell you what -   
He was the only one there. 

I am standing here in my ravine.   
Once again I see a piece of the sky   
And my joy never will be denied   
'Cause I was meant to be here -   
The only place on earth   
Where you are near -- where you are near. 

("Ravine" -- Ace of Base) 


	6. Millennium

Created: Saturday, May 25, 1996   
Completed: Tuesday, December 17, 1996   
This version is current as of: February 29, 2000   
Revision and editing by [Cinnamon][1]

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, and contains nothing sexual or improper of any nature. I would recommend it be rated G. 

**Historian's note: **The timeline is a little bit cockeyed. For all sake and reason, it's been a dozen years since the end of "Phantom of the Night". However, according to Avalon time, they would have left sometime after the year 2030, right? Well, they did, now they're in 2010 - you'll learn why in a minute. 

Dasha

**Sacramento, California**

**2010**

  
  


"But I don't care about that anymore! If he's alive, then I must leave here!" 

"No Tigris, think of what you are doing! He'll go mad if you try and meet him now!" 

"But there must be some other way than hiding here and holding back the truth." 

"The truth must sometimes be withheld to avoid contention." 

  
  


Tigris huffed to herself, spun on one foot, and walked down the corridor of the intertwining tree branches that made up Cassandra's gargoyle sanctuary, with brewing animosity. She'd been locked up in this blasted town for twelve years now, she was not going stay here a moment longer. 

Her room was filled with **things**, Tigris noted with disgust. Human things, fairy things, all things she didn't need. Pausing, she looked in the mirror Cassandra had given her. It reflected a tall, slim gargoyle girl of the human maturity of six with arm-wings, dressed in a trim off-white dirty fighter's smock, with a short sword belted to her waist. She angrily flung a bit of her blue hair from her face, blue like everything else about her. She shifted her sword, thoughtfully. This was the **only** thing she needed. 

  
  


"She still won't listen to you, hm?" 

Tigris sighed. "No, she wouldn't." 

"She doesn't like the fact that you have fallen out of her power with my help." 

"She doesn't like you?" 

"No, she doesn't. I don't like how she uses your clan." 

"Uses my clan?" 

"Yes. How she transfigures your bodies and controls your minds to get her ends." 

Tigris furrowed her eyebrow. Cassandra wouldn't do that... would she? But then she thought about her love. Cassandra had transformed and twisted his body... before he had supposedly died... 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." the voice apologized. 

"No, I saw her do it to my love. If what you say is true, that is why she doesn't want me to be with him, for then I would begin to see the truth." 

"You're intelligence never ceases to amaze me, Tigris." 

"Do not flatter me. I can go to Christyne, she will know what to do." 

The disembodied voice sighed. "Give her my best." 

"I will, Demeter." 

  
  


Pointing one finger at the mirror, she chanted, "Chalavem Serenea Novim Carachim!" 

The mirror began to glow, ever so slightly with an unearthly light. 

"Take me to Christine and Phantom." she commanded it. 

With that, she put her great oversized adolescent foot through the mirror, and stepped on through. 

The spell left her hanging in the air over a vast mountain range, not unlike her own from home in the San Andreas. She spread her arms, and frilled her wings, lowered her left arm and banked in that direction. 

~Was this Avalon? It looked so much like her home... 

From the dark night sky, she could make out many valley in these hills. There were human roads and fences... this was not Avalon. 

Tigris set down triumphantly in a glade, far from the reach of any humans, and began to scout out her surroundings. There was a strong sensation of magic here. She tried to feel it's source. It was coming from... right behind her. 

Tigris turned around, looking up toward the mountain. She saw a small flame in the air before her, and watched it go out. Then, the air before her erupted in a brilliant plume of flame. The flames began to blur and coalesce into a shape... that of a young gargoyle girl of only four year old. She hung in the air as the flames licked her skin into existence, and then faded away. The girl flared her wings, and dropped to the ground before Tigris. 

Tigris knelt down by the little girl. 

She was emerald green colored, with delicate double wings, dressed in a purple jumper cut off at her ankles, with a fire-breathing dragon emblem emblazoned upon it. She looked at the blue gargoyle with the mid-arm wings staring at her. The girl stood up to her full height, trying to look bigger, flaring her wings. "Who on earth are YOU?" 

"I am Tigris of the Clan of Cassandra the Fay." she replied automatically. 

The girl tipped her head to one side. "Are you sure?" 

Tigris pretended to thoughtfully glance off to one side, and then back to her. "The last time I checked." 

The green gargoyle shrugged. "Well, you're one of us, so mother will want to meet you anyway." 

With a flourish, the green one turned her back to Tigris, and began to disappear in flame just as she had appeared. Tigris was startled to realize the flames were now leaping about her skin as well, but they did not feel hot to her. She stared in fascination at the tickling but cool flames for a moment, before she realized that the scenery had changed. 

She stood in a lit cave of some sort, upon a metal rampway covering the abyss below her feet. Tigris gasped a moment. Her green skinned companion was walking down the rampway, lighting the cave with the flit of flame the leapt like a candle flame from her up pointed talon. 

"MOTHER! I FOUND A NEW ONE!" she called down the passage, and began to scamper on all fours down the gap between the two rock faces. Tigris slowly began to follow her, measuring her steps carefully. 

  
  


**Sacramento, California**

**August 19, 1998**

  
  


Tigris awoke in a daze. At first all she saw were bright lights dancing before her vision. There were some muffled sounds around her. Tigris caught sight of something large and blue, and focused as hard as she could on it. Then the voice began to come clear. 

"Tigris? Can you hear me?" came Cassandra's voice 

Young Tigris moaned. "I... I'm still alive." 

Cassandra sighed. "Barely. You're going to have a scar, but I managed to pull you through. Again." 

` Tigris blinked. Her benefactor was nearly hovering over her, as she struggled to get up. Steve and the others were nearby. She was back with her own clan, not the Clann na ochter oidhche bheithir, but home with Cassandra. She was alive. Cassandra touched her shirt, right in the middle of her chest. "Right here." 

Once before, when Tigris was very little, she remembered that, ever since she had been hatched, she'd been the weakest of the newborns in her rookery. Pollution, they had said, had made her ill while in her egg. She had been young then, but still wanted to live, and pleaded, with Cassandra for her life. Cassandra had granted it to her, with the condition that Tigris bear Cassandra's blue color throughout her body. So, to this day, Tigris was blue in every whit. 

"I'm not out until three strikes." Tigris announced. 

Cassandra frowned. "Don't even joke about that - one more like his and I can't guarantee you'll survive." Then Tigris thought of Matthew. 

"Where is Matthew?" she asked with anxiety. The last thing she remembered was him, holding her, as she died. She needed to get to him! 

Cassandra's smiled failed her. "Matthew is gone, honey." 

Tigris's face became suddenly stricken. Cassandra reached to grasp her hand as Steve held her in his arms. Tigris cried with them for an hour before falling asleep again. 

  
  


**2010**

  
  


"Someone's been feeding you a line, Tigris." Christyne noted, testing the heat of the tea before handing it to Tigris. " A lot of what she's telling you simply isn't true. We came home from Avalon immediately after the battle." 

"I think Cassandra has been wanting to hang onto you for longer than has been healthy." Phantom observed. 

"I will no longer be hers." Tigris stated flatly, sampling the tea. 

"However, there is much truth in what the other fey (Demeter -- was that her name?) ...in what she told you." Christyne went on. "Yes, Cassandra manipulates you and your clan's genetic makeup -- she's trying to help you survive through future generations. It just so happens that you and Matthew are the two who have been affected the most by her changes. Human beings do the same thing, they try and correct problems in their children before they are born, so that the child has the best chance at a full and productive life." 

"She should not have lied to me." 

"She didn't." Phantom cut in. "She just didn't give you the whole story." 

"She is a manipulating fay, and I will not have her over me." 

"So aren't all fay manipulating?" Phantom inquired. "Cassandra doesn't see your future, and has been trying to protect you. Besides, she is also under Oberon's edict to find a replacement for her to watch your clan and to go home to Avalon along with the other fay. She's been circumventing it for a dozen years now, the only reason Oberon puts up with it is because Cassandra's sort of like a 'daddy's girl' with Oberon." 

"You're different. You're not as manipulative." Tigris corrected. 

"Not really. Tanya has yet to learn to tell when I'm manipulating her. We all grew up with it, Cassandra included. However, Cassandra was something of a unique child -- Probably the youngest child ever to come of Oberon's loins." 

Tigris glanced over at the other girl -- Tigris's age -- sitting in the opposite seat. She seemed to be protesting something, but Phantom was ignoring her completely. 

"How many children do you have?" Tigris inquired. 

Christyne smiled warmly. "Let me explain something about Tanya. Sharm came to us -- many years ago, with a plan. She had been working with Phantom together to create a paradox with magic." 

"Paradox?" 

"Using natural, human, and fay magic together." Phantom explained. 

"Human and fay magic cancel each other out, they mutually annihilate one another. That is why the two are so different, and why humans looked at them as evil for a lot of history. Conversely, that is why human magic CANNOT enter Avalon - it would destroy Avalon. Natural magic occurs most strongly in nature itself, and in dragons, phoenixes, and other such beings. Natural magic usually cannot be tapped through any means than through such creatures, their objects, etc. They are the only channels of Natural magic. Matthew actually rode a unicorn when he was Tanya's age." 

Christyne paused, and then shook her head. "Anyhow, Sharm used the annihilating effect to bring out the Natural magic, and using all three types of power, she created a paradox of magic -- far stronger than any of the original magic. She and another fay, a brother of Oberon named Hephaestus, used it to create a talisman designed to burn down the walls of time and space. That was over ten millennia ago... Sharm had traveled back with the finished product to create it. This time she had decided to try it again, but with a living being. She'd found the first time that a living being is always necessary to direct it, and so to prevent several accidents they had with the last one." 

"She got excited about it when we left Avalon -- she never told us why, but just started arranging the experiment." Christyne added. "It took months before I even consented to let Sharm experiment on my egg. You should have seen her face blanch when I told her to get her own! Oh, what a Kodak moment!" she laughed. Tigris smiled. 

"When Tanya hatched, she had the power to travel across time and space with a thought -- by burning down the walls of time and space. Sharm calls her the 'Firedrake Gate'. I've seen many eggs hatch, but never one that hatches outside of space and time. Don't forget time passes differently on Avalon. We were there for many years, and Tanya's birth threw us right back to before it even started!" 

Tanya, in the chair, glanced at Tigris with an unimpressed look. Tigris recalled how she had first met Tanya -- her ability to disappear and reappear in flames. 

Christyne continued. "The other children were laid about once every few years. Phantom began to work Sharm's magic on all of them. Corala was hatched in 2003, and can move any object just by wanting to. Carribea was hatched in 2008 -- she's napping. She appears to have the ability to create things out of thin air, and to turn things to air. There are five other eggs down in the rookery." 

"Five?" Tigris asked. "How do you look after them all?" 

Christyne glanced at Phantom, who smiled. "I... pulled in some favors on that one." he answered. "You see, we've been exploring the world for the ten years it took for Tanya to be born, leaving her here, under the protection of someone... special. You'll meet her later." 

Christine laughed, continuing her previous explanation. "When Tanya was born, she flung us back in time twenty five years! It was like we never left for Avalon! We actually had to hide for five years to be certain we wouldn't affect the timestream!" 

"Favors?" Tigris asked. 

Christyne laughed. "A dragon that owed him a favor for a service Phantom had rendered her a while back. Phantom asked her to guard and protect the eggs." 

"Her magic is a great influence on the paradox magic." Phantom added. 

Tigris was agape. "A real dragon?" Phantom only grinned. Tigris sighed, and laid back in the chair. "I wanted to ask you something." 

"Ask away." Christyne nodded, setting her teacup aside. 

"What happened to Matthew?" 

  
  


There was silence. Even Tanya's "stop ignoring me!" demeanor melted. 

  
  


"The last I ever saw of him was on that night. He vanished after we left." Phantom put his tea cup aside. 

Tigris's face fell. "Then I'll never find him." 

"You two will be together and happy soon enough." Christyne replied lightly. "It's time to go looking for him." 

Tigris's expression was baffled. "How can you know that?" 

Phantom promptly intervened before Christyne even had the chance to tackle the question. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The small holographic figure on the table flopped down into a chair, spreading her wings over the chair lazily, and the voice in the speakers groaned. 

"No no no... you have to vaporize the graphite in a vacuum, or else it won't burn." Christyne muttered. 

"Humans have been burning carbon for six thousand years, I don't see why a little Xenon gas should make any difference." Sean replied with a bored tone, staring at the ceiling above him and the holographic figure. 

"I'm guessing you should get a lot of black powder when you're done with that." Nova noted, leaning back in a chair, and pointedly ignoring the argument going on between Christyne and Sean. She was thinking out loud. 

"Yes... just dump the black stuff into a bottle of kerosene." 

"Kerosene? Why on earth would you want to do that after you went to all this effort to vaporize the graphite in the first place?" Sean noted. 

Christyne ignored him and went on. "You'll start to get little brown crystals in the bottle..." The hologram held up a large brown sheet that shimmered in the holographic light, as an example. "It's basically a crystal of C-60." 

"C-60? How do those crystals interface with the San Crystals?" 

"They're non-magical, I know, but no matter how much magic you force into a signal, you can only push its strength so far." 

"So why not have the reaction under pressure?" 

"Some of us work better without pressure. Especially some carbon-based life forms I could tell you about." 

"So Marcus was telling us the other day." Nova nodded for Christyne to continue. 

Christyne scowled. "I've got to meet this Marcus character you keep talking about, sometime. Anyhow, the interface is flawless, 100% signal strength, no degradation." 

Sean snorted with disbelief. There was a beep as on one screen adjacent to Sean, a readout began to appear. 

"My initial readings on the interface." Christyne observed. 

Sean scowled. "Did you make these up?" 

"No, I just told the computer not to take them out to as many decimal places as you insist on." 

Nova waved at Sean, and went on with her questions. "So, how does it replenish signal strength between the San crystals?" 

"It doesn't, it's a superconductor, therefore it never loses signal strength... hang on a minute." Christyne cut off as a blue figure appeared in the hologram, whispering into Christyne's ear. 

  
  


"You've been arguing with them for two straight hours. Want to take a break for a while?" 

"Puh! You're the one who tore me away from this last time." 

"When?" 

"In college, remember?" 

Phantom sighed and laughed to himself a moment. "Fine, but Sharm is here, and they're planning the trip." 

"Alright, I'll be along in a few minutes." 

  
  


"Next time you're in the area, I'd be glad to introduce you to Marcus." Nova said, once Christyne turned back to them. 

"How much of that can you hear? I had the pickups turned down." 

"Down, but not off. If you're leaving we can discuss room temperature superconductors later." Nova noted. 

Christyne sighed. "A lot of those superconductor crystals are going into this trip, so I'm kinda working with a deadline. TURN DOWN THE CD IN THERE! Sorry, Nova..." 

Sean giggled a little to himself. "Alright, the electrical interface is good, but what about the magical element?" 

"All of the signal is going to meet resistance -- laws of physics. I'm still trying to relate magic within the laws of physics, though." Christyne sighed, shifting her wing's positions on the chair. "It should react the same way as any other San Crystal, just this one was created with chemistry." 

Nova frowned. "I don't think that the laws of physics apply to magic. In fact I don't think that any scientific laws apply to magic. That's what makes magic, well... magic. It can not be explained. Each time we think that we understand it, something happens that shows us we that we know nothing. Take Rem for example. There's no way any of us could have predicted what happened with her." Nova threw her hands up, indicating the room. "Look what happened here. I would have never dreamed of something like this." 

"So why doesn't the rest of the world have this?" Sean inquired. 

Christyne waved a pad of holographic papers, and dropped them at her feet. "Why doesn't the world have a fool-proof nuclear reactor? President cut off all funding for the research, leaving it to private companies like you and me." 

"Nuclear...?!!!!" he began, but Christyne waved him off. 

"I didn't say we were working on anything like that..." 

"Alright, both of you lay off." Nova demanded, making a spreading motion with her paws. "Christyne, we'll take a look at your numbers. If it's true you have ICBMs at your disposal to work with, I'd imagine you could sell a few secretly and get the materials you need to build whatever you want." 

"Our plans, Nova, were to build an observatory here in the mountain. The problem we're faced with is linking the computer network with yours. We've bought out a failing nuclear missile plant in the area called Alliant TechSystems. Sharm insisted on renaming it 'Xanatos TechSystems' and making it a subsidiary of some larger company I've never even heard of, instead of making our own company from it. She seems to favor safety over investment." 

"There's enough junk around this planet already, we don't need to add to it. Dismantle the ICBM plant and put them to work doing R&D." Sean noted. "Why don't you just use one of our sats for the link? It's not like we we're running short of them." 

"I don't know -- give me a TCP address on one of your satellites, and I can try a traditional logon and see if it's traceable. If we have to, we can take a few of our superconductive crystals, and a few San Crystals, and set up a processor bias and link to one of those TAT computer centers with optical cable. I don't know your system, so you'd have to set up an interface for me. There's no way anyone can trace that unless they trip on the wire." 

"Now that's a little more reasonable." Sean laughed. "Your parts are already in the mail." 

"Take your time, remember the point is to keep anyone from finding them." 

"Oh don't worry. Nobody will ever find them." He grinned. 

  
  


"What was that about?" A younger voice inquired. Christyne turned away from the computer console, to where Tigris stood at a respectful distance, watching. 

Christyne motioned to the cave. "Eventually, we're hoping to get all this converted into a home instead of a cave. The computers we've been kind of tossing together have magical components that I'm working together with other gargoyles to create. No human has a computer like them." 

"Other gargoyles? Where do they live?" 

Christyne picked up the smaller blue gargoyle, and held her next to the computer displays. "If I told you that, I'd have ta' kill you." Christyne laughed. 

"Are they in hiding? Where did you find them?" 

"Yes... well, let's just say their phone number came to me in a dream..." 

"Alright! Alright! Enough with the techno-babble already!" A light, chipper voice added to the chaos. "Are you two coming or not?" 

The bright haired woman with her hands on her hips was regarded with a sigh from the gargoyles. "Alright, we're coming Sharm." 

"Good! Hurry up already!" 

Shifting the heavy thirteen-year-old from one hip to the other, Christyne regarded the little blue girl in the dirty white smock and short sword for a moment. "You know, if I were human, I doubt I'd even be able to pick you up." 

"COME ON, CHRISTINE!" Sharm declared, pulling Christyne by the wing into the other cavern. "Stop stalling!" 

"Hey hey! Easy on the wing already! We're coming." Christyne replied, following. "Forgive me for not being anxious to go off on another wild goose chase." 

"This won't be a chase. You'll see. We'll find out exactly where he is." 

"Why am I not relieved?" 

"Just listen." Sharm proclaimed, as Christyne and Tigris moved over by Phantom and Tanya. Sharm was standing at the front of the room, like she were about to give a presentation before a bunch of stuffy corporate leaders. 

"Where's Mandy?" Christyne inquired. 

"We're coming." said another voice. Tigris watched with a strange sense of curiosity as a thirty-three year old Mandy D. Felis, her husband Thom, and five children were hurried into the room. "Sorry, there was an accident at the mouth of the canyon." 

"Everyone just sit down." Sharm said. "Thank you for bringing her, you and the children are welcome to leave whenever you'd like." This last was addressed to Thom and the five young humans -- all girls. Tigris was tempted to ask Christyne what all their names were, but resisted the temptation. 

"Who said we weren't coming with you?" Thom asked lightly. 

"I did." Mandy replied officiously. She reached over and kissed Thom on the cheek. "Thanks for the lift, now get the children to bed. It's my destiny to be on these adventures, not yours." 

"Take care of yourself." Thom replied. 

"That's my job." Sharm interjected. 

"I told my friend about you, but he didn't believe me." One of Mandy's children, one of the older twins of about twelve years old, was saying to Tanya. 

"Where does he live? Maybe I'll bug him in his sleep." Tanya laughed. 

"Alright, time to go." Thom said, trying to shuffle the human children out of the room. 

"Wait! Mommy? Can I spend the night with Anna?" Tanya begged Christyne, in a somewhat Sharm-like manner. 

Christyne glanced at Thom. "It'd be for a more than one night, I'd say." 

Thom shrugged. "Sure... I suppose the neighbors won't notice if we suddenly sprout a gargoyle on our roof overnight." 

"I'll stay in the basement in Anna's room!" Tanya added, hopefully. Tigris felt a little uncertain. She'd been hoping Tanya would be coming with her. 

Thom sighed. "Very well, but both of you need to clean up the gravel, and Tanya has to promise not to keep the girls up all night on school nights." 

"Promise!" Tanya added hopefully. 

Thom looked at Mandy, imploringly. Mandy smiled and shrugged. "Sorry, love. With friends like ours..." 

"Oh, the home teachers are going to love this." Thom muttered. "Alright, Tanya... Come on." 

With a burst of hyperactivity, the little gargoyle vanished in a plume of flame, and reappeared by Anna's side, and they began talking with excitement. 

After they had gone, Mandy leaned over to Christyne and whispered in her ear. "I think Anna and Tanya are going to turn out like us." 

"Just no more hide-and-go-seek games in third century Arabia, and I'm fine with it." Christyne sighed. 

"I'm sure after one night, Tanya will decide to come with us after all. She'll just appear back here in a few hours." Mandy laughed. Christyne sighed. 

"Alright. I suspect we'll be seeing more of them later, but let's get started with what we have, shall we?" Sharm suggested, creating a large flipchart and easel out of the air. Christyne leaned back, pulled Tigris over by her and Mandy, and listened, with Tigris on her lap. 

"Now that we have Tigris back -- **FINALLY**, we can actually start the quest I've been planning..." Sharm began, waving toward Tigris. 

Mandy whispered into Tigris's ear. "There, see now? You've gotten her started." 

"I'm sorry." Tigris apologized. Mandy giggled and started to straighten one of the young Tigris's plumes of blue hair, producing an ornate brush from the bag on her back. 

"The first thing we need to do is find Matthew." Christyne was saying. 

"Agreed." Phantom nodded. "We haven't heard anything about him for a dozen years." 

"A dozen years too long for me." Sharm put in. 

"How do you propose to find him?" Christyne asked. "Twelve years, he could be anywhere in the world." 

"Who said anything about searching in this world?" Sharm inquired. "I know someone who's been following his movements very closely, so if we can get her to help us more directly, then I'd say finding him would be fairly simple." 

"Who?" Mandy inquired, giving up on Tigris's hair. It was too wiry to do anything with, and Mandy put the brush back in her bag. 

"My mother!" Christyne suddenly lit up. "She's the only one of us who isn't limited by the walls of space." 

"Problem is, we've got to bring her back onto this plane if we're going to be able to ask her anything." 

"Back onto this plane? You mean bring my mother back from the dead? You're crazy, Sharm!" Christyne scoffed. "You'd have to find a stone gargoyle that is still intact in the world that isn't being used once the sun is down, and THEN somehow fuse mother's spirit to the stone again. Do you have any idea how hard to find that would be?" 

"Oh, dearie I have something easier in mind." Sharm noted. "Better than trying to resurrect a dead gargoyle, why not just make her a new one tailor made to fit her?" 

Christyne looked at Sharm with eyes that said are-you-off-your-rocker-today-Sharm? "Make her a new body? I didn't know you were expecting, Sharm." 

Sharm glowered at her. "Save that idea for later. You're the one who keeps making new eggs every five years." 

Christyne glowered in response. "So you think you can do better?" 

"I intend to create a physical form," Sharm began, pointing the dowel rod at her flip chart, which now displayed a large block of... something. "By taking a block of existing material, and carving a gargoyle from it." The picture changed to one of a carved gargoyle, resembling Christyne when she was asleep for the day. "And placing her inside of it, I can use my special magical technique to bring her to life." 

Christyne nodded. She should have expected this much of Sharm. For a dozen years now, Sharm had been systematically using her human/fay/natural magic collision technique to do strange things. Now she planned to use the same power that was used on Tanya and all her children to combine her mother's spirit and a block of stone and reanimate her. "What special abilities would Tutela have?" 

Sharm was a little baffled by this question. "If she lives again, I'll be happy." 

Christyne stared at Sharm. "So... where do we start?" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Sharm... you're crazy." 

"So you've mentioned before, dearie." 

"Stone I can understand, but Ivory?" 

Christyne stood perched on top of a enormous block of soft Ivory. Her wings were flared slightly, as she tried to maintain balance as Sharm moved the block around with her magic. 

"Show some imagination, Christine! I thought of trying to use Pearl, but it would be simply too far to go to get one large enough." 

"I just want to know how on **earth** you got a block of IVORY this big! I mean... imagine the tusk that a block this big came from!" 

"I have my ways, dearie." 

"I've noticed." 

"The tusk was from a creature that's been extinct for longer than I've been around, and lived on another plane of existence from us." 

"Was this one of your toys that you kept in the corner of your room, and wouldn't let me see?" 

"No, I kept this at Grace's place for the last year or two." 

"Who?" 

"Nevermind." 

Flaring her wings, Christyne swept down from atop her perch, as Sharm placed the large block down on the floor in the cave she had chosen. Sharm was dressed in a filthy white apron, with a white cap on her head, and some sort of chisel and mallet in her hands. She spread her arms, showing off the outfit to Christyne. 

"Look! I am picasso!" 

"You failed the physical." Christyne nodded. 

Sharm promptly stuck her tongue out at Christyne, threw the mallet aside, and began to whack at the ivory with the chisel in her hand. The stone block was decidedly a head taller than Christyne, but Sharm managed to reduced it in a matter of a few minutes. When Phantom appeared with Tigris inside the chamber, they watched as Sharm put the final touches on it. 

Sharm was muttering to herself as she finished. "If only I could get this to work on 'Ella..." 

"Eh?" Christyne muttered, but then thought better of inquiring further, turning her attention to Phantom and Tigris. They were an interesting pair -- two fay-blue gargoyles standing side by side -- Phantom the blue of his father the king of Avalon, and Tigris the blue of her mentor Cassandra. "The blues are here." 

"Ah! Good!" Sharm declared. "What do you think?" 

Phantom scowled. "It doesn't look like her." 

Sharm scowled at him. "You weren't even born then, Arion." 

"Looks to me like a gargoyle mixed with a dragon." Christyne observed. The ivory figure Sharm had just created bore Tutela's typical face -- two long slender horns jutting straight back out of her brow, with a human face, and very long ears. She had very powerful looking arms and legs, and her tail bore several spear-like projections on it. She had her typical double-wings, with a larger pair on top, and a smaller pair on bottom, but this time they seemed very dragon-like having bones down their edges. The stance and appearance of the gargoyle that Sharm had just carved in a matter of a few minutes, had an appearance that just screamed "I am a dragon!" to Christyne. 

Tigris stepped up to the carved figure, looking up her length. "Spiked tail?" 

"I wanted to give her one at the wedding, but she wouldn't have known what to do with it." Sharm muttered sidelong. "Besides, it would have destroyed her wedding dress." 

"Now what?" Christyne inquired, hesitantly. "We have a large ivory woman." 

Sharm, returning back to her normal appearance, swept up through the air in her normal fay form, and looked down at the ivory figure, and began to sprinkle things over it like small bits of herbs, oils, and smeared it in some sort of white cream. 

"'Life lotion' -- another of her paradoxial creations. She sells it to her friends for use in back massages." Phantom explained offhandedly to Christyne's look of perplexing. 

One of the virtues of the cave Sharm had chosen, was that it was near the surface, and some quartz veins allowed moonlight to filter down inside. As Phantom put out the lights and darkened the cave, the slender tracings of moonlight shimmered, moved, and danced all about the carved figure like they were underwater. 

"For the soul to be willing 

the flesh must first grow weak 

just long enough 

for soul in flight 

to pass from cheek 

to cheek." Sharm declared with a loud voice, toward the source of the moonlight. 

"Like I've never heard that one before." Phantom laughed. 

"HUSH!!" Sharm accosted him. Sharm withdrew a number of small items from her pouch, which she laid around the feet of the figure... an alicorn... a large red feather that glowed like a dying ember... several small silver bells... 

There was a loud growl from the figure. Tigris scampered over into Christyne's arms. 

"Tutela awaken! 

I have called you forth! 

Do as I command! 

And live again!" 

With that, Sharm added her own magic to the mixture. There was a loud crackle of energy, and the two mortal gargoyles clinging to each other closed their eyes. 

Sharm had created another of her apocalyptic reactions. 

There was a red light in the room. Christyne and Tigris opened their eyes. The light was coming from the figure's eyes. The roar grew louder. A sound of cracking ivory filled the air. Was the statue breaking? A light -- crackling almost like lightning, snapped and danced in the air. 

The roar reached a climax, and all the light in the room faded. 

Phantom turned the lights back on. 

Christine looked down where the statue had been. Laying on the floor rubbing the sleep from her eyes was a red gargoyle, amidst a pile of ivory rubble. 

"...And you doubted me!" Sharm declared. 

Christyne, amazed at the sight of the new gargoyle, stepped cautiously forward with the younger gargoyle in her arms. 

The red figure looked up at the two approaching gargoyles. Suddenly, a thousand different emotion flickered across the red gargoyle's face, as she recognized them. 

"Christine?" asked her mother's voice. All the blood drained from Christyne's face. The voice sent chills through her... a voice she hadn't heard twenty years... 

"Mother?" she asked with bewilderment. 

Christine held an experimental paw out to her. She felt the other's warm paw touch her own, and Christine helped her to her feet. There was a long moment as the two, nearly equal in height, gazed at one another. 

Tutela touched her daughter's face, touching the hair, the horns, the eyes... the ones she remembered from so long ago... 

It was precisely at that moment that a squalling sound was heard from another cave, the sound of a baby crying. Christyne turned to go. "Oh... Carribea's crying..." 

"Carribea?" Her mother's voice asked. Christyne stopped short. 

There was an uneasy silence for a long moment. 

Christyne broke from Tutela and hurried down the hall to tend to the youngster. Phantom followed her, a concerned expression on his face. 

This left Tigris and Sharm to confront the gargoyle woman. 

  
  


  
  


"What's the matter, Christyne?" Phantom touched his mate's shoulder gently. She was trembling. 

"I went through her death twice. Now, seeing that face again... I'm afraid that all I'll ever be able to see was that face, a pile of smashed rubble from three hundred years ago." 

"Bring the children." Phantom nodded, scooping up the tan colored heap under his feet, which had been sleeping peacefully with one talon in it's mouth. 

Christyne took up the squalling youngster in the crib. She was laying across her small red wings. Christyne found the bottle on the cribside that she'd set there when she laid the youngling down for her midnight nap. Christyne sat back, gently rocking the youngster. For a moment, something flashed in Christyne's mind, of how much the squalling youngster resembled her grandmother... 

  
  


  
  


"I still say it was sloppy of you. You always were careless and sloppy." 

"I AM NOT! I am very careful, and I try my hardest to take care of my friends. It's not like I could do any better at the time!" Sharm added defensively. 

Tutela folded her arms and turned her back on Sharm. "Sloppy and manipulative." 

"Don't judge her too harshly, mother." Christyne's voice filtered into the argument. "She was saving me and we lost you." 

The red gargoyle turned back to the hallway, to see her daughter standing there, with a small bundle held close to her heart. With the metal grate clanking under her talons, Christyne presented her with the small red bundle. "This is Carribea." 

The red gargoyle's stern demeanor melted like water. Carefully as if it were her own, she took the small infant in her arms. "Carribea?" 

"Your granddaughter. She's about fourteen months old, by human reck." 

Tutela's eyes looked with wonder at the small figure. Turning, she saw the older tan colored youngster trying to sleep in Phantom's arms. "This is Corala." he said. "About three and a half as it would appear to a human." 

With exasperation, Tutela looked at Christyne again. "How many more are there?" 

  
  


  
  


The dragon was enormous. She filled the entire room, and the heat was scorching. Her nearly translucent skin appeared to be almost covered in jewels. 

"I see Sharm has been taking inspiration." Phantom observed, comparing Tutela's new figure with that of his old friend, Xylanamalthiatibia. Tutela did not even bother with the pronunciation. 

The large figure regarded the new gargoyle with open suspicion at first, but after taking in her scent, smiled. She drew up to her full height, filling the cavern. Although she was upright, she was hardly at her tallest, as her back feet were still behind her. She stood up on her front feet, peering down at the gargoyles. Tutela covered her head with her wing. 

"You are the mother of this young mother?" she asked. The young mother, it seemed by her referencing motion, meant her daughter. "You have the mother's scent." 

"Yes, I am Christyne's mother." Tutela answered. 

"Not like the resemblance is still there." Phantom whispered to Sharm, who glowered back at him. 

"The elder egg may hatch within two years.." the towering figure answered, in a softer tone than Tutela had thought was possible. "It's scent is forming - it is also a female." 

"Then we will probably name her Pacifica." Christyne noted. 

Phantom tugged at Tutela, urging her to follow. He continued into the next chamber, the one guarded by the dragon. Instead of stone, Tutela found herself suddenly entering a different world. Instead of sweltering heat, she found mist and steam. Although still warm as a sauna, Tutela breathed the freshness of the air shared by any of a hundred plants that thrived in this cave under bright fluorescent lights. 

"Welcome to the greenhouse." Phantom smiled, taking Tutela's hand. Christyne got down on all fours, and began to bounce about on all fours, searching for something. 

"I've never met a dragon before." Tutela noted, still shaking a little from the experience. "She's beautiful!" 

"She resembles you a little." Phantom observed. "I think Sharm got some of her inspiration from her." 

"I... I do?" Tutela asked, touching her face. Glancing into a pool of steaming water by the way side, she gasped. "I... I do!" 

"Sharm took some liberties giving you life again." Christyne noted. 

"I get no thanks!" Sharm protested. Tutela's paw touched Sharm's shoulder. 

"I'm..." Tutela motioned to her reflection, "it's beautiful." 

Sharm smiled broadly, giving a small curtsey. 

Phantom had arrived at the spot, and Tutela anxiously hurried near. 

"A dragon?" Tutela asked. 

"To guard the eggs while we're away." 

"Are you away much?" Tutela asked. 

"Not usually, but it could still happen even when we are home. There are a lot of fey out there who don't like me in particular. Besides, Xylanamalthiatibia owed me a favor when she managed to step on Oberon's toe, so-to-speak. I was in the right place at the right time. Ah! See? She found it." 

Carefully hidden among palm leaves, Christine had uncovered two pristine gargoyle eggs. Both were already spotted with blue circles, and the larger one swayed slightly of it's own accord. 

Tutela gasped. "She was right... the larger one will hatch soon." 

"Within a year or so. By 2012." Phantom estimated. 

"That one will hatch late." Christyne prophesied. "It will be very near the thirteenth year before her face will be seen." 

Phantom and Tutela both stared at her. 

Uncomfortable at the stares she was receiving, she added. "I... I suppose she's comfortable in there!" 

Tutela blinked, shrugging it off, and turned to the smaller egg. "She doesn't look too good." 

"She's not." Sharm added. "She was laid out of doors on a very bad day, instead of in here. We moved the eggs in here to try and prevent the problem again, but we think something in the air made the egg ill." 

Tigris, watching with quiet fascination, sat down in the fronds by this egg, with a small sigh of wonder. "She's like me." 

Tutela leaned down and touched Tigris's shoulder. "Perhaps Cassandra will heal her as well?" 

Sharm smiled. "I'll what I can do. Unless you mind one of your own children having blue coloring as well...?" 

Christyne was still nervous. "She will be healed, but will still be born a broken little girl. Her ears will be stopped." 

Phantom's brow furrowed. 

"Christyne? Take a deep breath." he said. 

Christyne blinked, and did so. "Was I doing it again? I can't remember..." 

"Yes." 

"What?" Tutela asked, glancing back and forth between them in confusion. 

"Prophesying." Sharm answered. "It's been coming to you closer together now." 

"Christine... prophesies?" Tutela stuttered. 

"It was a gift from my mother a number of years ago. Her visions are getting increasingly frequent." Phantom explained. 

Christyne blinked, and touched her brow. She sat down, dizzily. "Phantom? I don't know what's wrong, but I think I'm seeing something coming..." 

Phantom nodded. "I'd say it's already started." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


The snow drifted silently, settling freshly on the land. Glancing at her watch, Christyne paused to think about how late (or early, depending on how you look at it) the time had grown. The Spring Equinox was approaching, and she predicted that they would, despite the early three o'clock hour, still have a maximum of four hours to finish their task and return home. Phantom attempted to reassure her nervous feelings -- it would not take them nearly as long, he said. 

Christyne felt a swelling rise. Of course Phantom was always right, and he projected his cool calm with ease. It was funny, she thought, she'd always thought that when she'd marry, she'd know exactly why she was doing it. She wasn't sure what it was about him, she only knew she loved him. Not to mention his iron-clad will was a great help at times like this... 

Tutela, however, was another matter. She still teetered a little when passing a turbulent draft. When trying to bring her out into the open, Tutela had become a basket case -- she didn't remember how to glide! It had taken most of the night, but she had remembered very quickly once they had gotten her into the air. As awkward as Tutela was with her new body, she wouldn't need too long before she remembered it all again. 

Christyne found herself hanging nervously by Phantom. It seemed to strange and new to have her dam watching her again. She was married now, and didn't need to be watched over! Still, there was that sensitive, human part of her that saw those eyes of Tutela that spoke of loneliness. Christyne would always looked into those eyes and curse her nervous feelings, for treating her own dam like such a stranger. 

The house in Park City was there still, relieving both of them. However, something was very wrong. Christyne was the first to tack over on the breeze they were slowing down on and touch down on the lawn with a sweep of her wings. The grass was the first thing she noticed -- it was very overgrown! The house appeared older, more neglected. The paint was peeling, the walks were dirty, and the flowerbed by the gate was overgrown with weeds. 

Tutela and Christyne shared an anxious glance when Tutela landed, upon seeing the condition of the house. 

Things must have not gone well after Matthew's "death". 

"What are we expecting to accomplish here?" Christyne said, pushing her anxiety to one side and trying to sound prepared for anything. 

"Oh, he's probably still asleep. I just want to talk to him. I haven't seen him for... so long..." Tutela stumbled over the words. With a determined tread, she approached the front door, wings caped. 

Christyne felt bad again. She didn't want to knock down Tutela's hopes. She had to admit she shared them, as suspicious as she was toward the whole idea. 

Tutela approached the front door with the air of a giddy school girl. She was followed by two nervous gargoyles, knowing that this was an insane time of night to see a human at all. 

Tutela put her paw up, as though she were ready to knock on the door. For an instant, Christyne thought she saw something flicker in a window nearby. Before even touching the door, there was a high pitched mechanical whine, and Tutela stopped. Suddenly, the door inside opened... 

Tutela was utterly unprepared for the attack. There was a thud and scream as the hammer impacted with her chest and jolted her with electricity. 

Enraged, the other gargoyles reacted instantly. The man behind the door tried to close the door behind him, but Christyne had already taken aim and opened fire. A fine red laser beam traced out from the device in her paws, and for a moment the porch was bathed in red light, the beam struck it's target by the door, and he fell backwards onto the floor. Groaning, he brought his weapon about, and Christyne swung aside. Phantom was also there, and took the man by the hands and disarmed him. 

Christyne took a breath and relaxed a moment before pulling the hood off the man. Underneath the black hood was the older version of the man that Christyne had used to call her father, Michael Shelton. He struggled, but Phantom's grasp was too strong, and with a pass of his paw, the man fainted into his arms. 

Tutela stood up, and spat with anger. "Who was he? I dare say he could have killed..." 

She paused, when, with her gargoyle's night-vision she made out the man's warm face in the dark. 

"Michael...?" she whispered, hopefully. 

"He'll be alright." Phantom reassured her. Tutela took the man into her own arms. He certainly looked older. There were grey hairs on his head, and a few scars that hadn't been there before to her memory. 

"He'll be alright." 

Then Tutela noticed the insignia on his robe. "Arion? What does this mean?" 

Phantom looked, already knowing what he would find. There was a triple slash insignia cutting through the outline of the State of Utah. "Hunters." 

Trying to get Christyne's reaction to all this, Phantom looked around, but it was then he realized she was nowhere to be seen... 

  
  


  
  


It was not the same house that had been hers in 1996, Christyne first thought. 

As though in a trance, she observed the broken furniture, cluttered rooms, and smelly floors. What had happened here? Christyne had raced up the stairs, desperate to find something that looked the way it should. 

Why should it? She had not been a gargoyle when last she lived here, and her eyes saw differently now. Nothing would look the same. Was it just her? 

Then she heard it... the small, tender sound of weeping. Suddenly, her mind flashed... she was a little girl again, in the third room down the hall, crying on her bed for being sent to her room without supper... 

...but it was not coming from her own room. Christyne's ears could tell that it was across the hall in Ket's room... 

Ket! Of course, how could she have forgotten her! Christyne quickly stepped to the door, and opened it quietly. "Hello?" 

"Go away!" a small voice replied. 

Christyne closed the door behind her. "It's me... don't you remember?" 

In the dark, Christyne saw clearly the figure curled in the corner, trying not to be seen in the dark. "Get away, monster!" The shadow tried to say in a louder voice. 

There huddled a woman of nearly twenty five, with her knees pulled to her chest, crying. Christyne's jaw fell. That was not the little girl she had expected to see! She was grown up! Only, it had been nearly fourteen years since Christyne had been transformed... she had only grown seven years older in that time, but what of the rest of her family? 

Something else occurred to her. Keturah had always thought her dead for a decade and a half. Neither did she know she had been changed... 

Christyne turned on the light switch. 

It didn't take long for Keturah to adjust to the light, and she could make out the large pink colored woman with the wings, fangs, claws, tail, horns, and pointed ears. 

Keturah screamed and fainted. Alarmed, Christyne rushed forward and caught her. Within a minute, Phantom and Tutela appeared at the door of the room. "What happened? Christyne! Are you alright?" 

Christyne only stared at the face on the body she was holding in her arms. She heard Tutela gasp. 

  
  


Ket's face was covered in old bruises. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Phantom hated very much to see Christyne crying, because when she did so, she curled her arms around her on the table, let her wings lag beneath her, and she just lay there weeping, wilted onto the table like she were going to collapse at any moment. 

Tutela stood there, over the two cots with the two humans on them. Phantom had already taken the precaution of strapping Mike down. Tutela just clung to one of the support pylon beams, leaned against it, and sighed once every few minutes as she watched them sleep. 

Phantom had reassured both of them that they would not reawaken until the following evening, but for now the sun would be rising soon on the outside of the mountain. Phantom watched with trepidation as the stone form overtook Tutela and her daughter, and finally felt the stone overtake him. 

However, the bundle of white tunic and red hair hovering in the background could not let it remain so. She rapped her knuckles against Phantom's stone form, and he suddenly reverted to flesh in a shudder of stone pieces. "WHAT, SHARM?" he snarled angrily. 

"Don't snap at me! I told you we were going to do it tonight, so don't say I didn't warn you!" 

Phantom scowled and gave in. She had told him. He'd just forgotten. 

"I have something that needs to be set in order before we leave. Besides, it's your turn to go shopping." 

Phantom moaned. "I spent a whole day human trying to pick out the supplies you ask for just yesterday!" he protested. 

"Too bad. I went shopping last time." 

Phantom sighed, and flowed into his human disguise. "Fine, but you are still responsible to watch things around here while I'm gone." 

Sharm made a remove-yourself-from-my-presence motion with her hand, grinning. Phantom vanished in a sparkle of magic. 

Sighing, the red haired fay looked down at the two figures on the cots. "This is not going to be fun, you two." 

  
  


  
  


The brink of the precipice loomed before her. Keturah stood there, looking out with longing into the mists below her. She wondered how she had gotten here, and what lay below the cliff. 

She stepped closer, and her heart began to pound. It wouldn't feel so bad. She wanted to die. Perhaps it would be thrilling to fall from a cliff so high. She looked around her on the clifftop. The land was so burned out and dry up here. She hated it here. Why should she worry, when stepping off made it so much easier? 

She felt a tear touch her cheek once, as she stepped off the edge. 

Suddenly the clouds and mist were gone, but Keturah was still falling. 

"All of you Shelton women have the same problem, you know that?" came a new voice. 

Keturah blinked. Who was that? 

"Let's just say I'm a friend of your mother's. You didn't answer my last question -- did you know that?" 

~Ummm... no I didn't, she thought back. 

"Yes you do. Christyne had the same solution once, to try and run away from a problem. Do you know what it took to make her realize that? Three weeks in Antarctica, that's what it took. I took her and buried her in the snow for three weeks without telling her why. She didn't freeze of course because she was made of metal at the time, but she finally got it into her head that there was no easy way out in her situation, and that she had to do something about it to get any relief." 

~What can I do? There's nothing I can do. 

"So that's your only solution, to walk dramatically off a cliff?" 

~What do you care? No one cares. 

"You're right, I don't. If you want to cast yourself from a mountain top, that's your problem, but if you want to do something with the life you have, I'm perfectly willing to help!" 

~Do something? 

"Yes! Instead of throwing your life away, how about helping save your father's?" 

~Father's? 

  
  


With a wicked undercut, the dreaming Mike hoped to seriously wound or kill the ridiculous looking woman who was hovering over his head, fencing with him like she were painting her nails. Whenever Mike let up for a moment, Mike found himself laying on the ground again, and her just hanging in the air above him. 

"Had enough? You know, I wasn't planning on fighting you when I came." she said, doing a flourish with her sword. 

Mike started backing away, as if to make a silent escape. Before long he realized he wasn't getting any further away from her, no matter how fast he ran! 

"Now I see where your daughters got it from." 

"Got what?" 

"Their constant tendency to run away from their problems. They learned it from you." 

"That's not true!" he protested. 

"Then why were you trying to kill me! (Albeit not well.)" 

"You have those pointed ears like the gargoyles do, and you were flying -- I thought you were one of the enemy." 

"Enemy, are we? Oh... what you don't know! How ungrateful the human race is!" Sharm laughed at the dreaming man. 

"What?" he replied. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Tutela was not exactly eager to be doing this again, but she saw the need for it. The sight of him standing there almost broke her heart. 

"Mike?" she asked, tentatively. 

"What do you want?" he asked, his back to the bars of his rock-hewn prison cell. 

"Don't you recognize me? My voice?" 

"You are only a shadow of someone I once knew. She died in a car accident. You are just a gargoyle who happens to talk like her. As soon as the other hunters find me..." 

"They won't find you." Phantom said conclusively. 

"Am I also dead to you then, father?" Christyne put in. 

Mike did not reply at first. He still remembered that night... years ago... 

"Can you find me a gargoyle that sounds like Matthew too?" 

"Yes. That's what this is all about." Phantom said neutrally. 

"You can't seriously expect me to believe..." 

"Twelve years ago you battled with their clan traveling north to Mount Saint Helens." Tutela broke in. "You killed Tigris, and because of it Matthew ran away. Now we're going to go find that boy again. You are coming with us." 

"Why?" 

"Because I said so." Tutela scowled. Her anger was rising, and her love and patience were fading quickly with him. 

  
  


  
  


Ket was awakened from sleep by a voice... could it have been Christine's...? 

"Ket... can you hear me?" 

"Christine?" 

"Yes, Ket. It's me." 

"...but... you're dead..." 

"Do I look dead?" 

Ket didn't reply immediately -- confused between dreams and reality. Ket opened her eyes to Christine's face... covered in pink and a look of concern. 

Ket gasped. "Ch... Chri... Christy?!!" she stammered in terror. 

"It's okay, Ket. It's me." Christine replied in a soothing tone. 

"You're a... a monster!" 

"Perhaps, but I'm still your sister." Christine said with a defensive 'End of Discussion' tone. 

"But... ... ...how?" Ket breathed. 

"I'll tell you later. I want to hear about you first." 

Ket looked at the face hanging over her in the moderate light, trying to decide if it was the same. She reached out a hand, and subconsciously found herself feeling the curves of that whitish pink skin. 

Then Keturah's eyes slid down to the feet standing aside the bed. Sure enough, Christine had a small one-inch scar just above the ankle on her right foot -- well, fetlock anyhow. 

The scar she had given Christine. 

Keturah would know that scar anywhere -- she had dreamed of it so many times. Just seeing that long truck pin from Daddy's tool chest stuck up through Christine's foot and ankle... and the younger Christine screaming... Ket hardly knowing what she had done, she had been so young then... only four... 

Keturah winced. It was Christine. 

"It's pink." Keturah observed. 

Christine blinked, and then followed her gaze to her foot, to the small dark line above her fetlock. 

"Well... it was sorta permanent." Christine stammered, taken by surprise. She had forgotten about that, but Keturah had not. 

"It really is you... what happened...?" Keturah barely breathed as she asked it. Christine smiled tenderly, and touched Keturah's cheek. 

Keturah reached up, and the two sisters embraced -- sisters once again. 

"How have you been?" Christine whispered. 

Keturah sighed. "Matthew died not long after you did..." The girl looked up at Christine as though she were a ghost. "He became so angry after that. He started staying out late with these groups, and just looking at your and mother's photos. He went on trips looking for some kind of creatures, and he would never tell me about them. I started getting worried, and the doctors told me I had come down with Manic Depression. Dad got worse after I graduated from High School, so I said I'd stay home with him. He kept getting more and more obsessed with slaying his fantasy monsters..." 

Keturah stopped, looking at Christine. "Go on, Ket." 

"...he was so obsessed in killing... them... that he was angry most of the time. He went into angry rages when the bills came, or when he realized how badly the house was out of shape. We got into fights, and he..." 

"He hit you." Christine completed the thought. 

Keturah looked away, and collapsed back onto the bed. "He always said he was sorry after, and that he didn't mean to, and I stayed because I loved him... he was my father... He stopped going to church, and then he threatened to kill me too if I left, so I stayed only because I was afraid, and..." 

Ket said nothing more, but only cried into the pillow. Christine leaned down and held Keturah's shoulders. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"That's easy for you to say with all your magic, but what about us?" 

"Oh don't be silly! I have ways of getting there, I just need to know where I'm going first." 

Tutela looked over at Phantom and humphed. Phantom scowled, scratching his temple with one talon. It surprised Tutela how gargoyle like he was. He was, without a doubt, the most gargoyle-like of any of the fay she'd met. She'd only been alive a day now, but she had never even seen a sign of any fay powers in him. 

"What do you think, Phantom?" 

Phantom glanced at Tutela with a thoughtful expression. "I think this is best left to you two. I'm little good at this. You and Sharm had best be the navigators on this trip. I'll stay with Tigris and the others." 

Tutela nodded. He just wanted to be with Christyne, no doubt. How very much like Mike he was. Tutela had long since decided she liked Arion... well, Phantom. Very level headed, even if he had his subtle manipulations. In that wise, he was much like the fay Coyote -- subtle and businesslike fairies. 

Then there was the little girl Tigris. She was less of an enigma, and reminded her distinctly of young Malcora -- the protective little hatchling that squabbled with the other hatchlings over her ledge on the castle wall at the Castle of the Drake before it was destroyed. Tigris was a budding warrior, endowed with determination and independence that Tutela almost envied. A true gargoyle. 

"I assume we're bringing Ket and Mike along?" Sharm added hastily. 

"Of course, I won't have it any other way." Tutela returned, sharply. 

"Then they're your job, Phantom. I can't worry about them now, not if I'm going to find that boy." 

Phantom sighed audibly, reserved. "Oberon still owes me." He smirked. "Besides, you're not the only one who's goaded humans before. You just find Matthew." 

"I intend to." Sharm nodded, and vanished in a plethora of twinkling lights. 

  
  


** June 3, 2010**

  
  


The camp had dispersed, and everyone was settling down. As a matter of safety, the gargoyles were gathered into a protected tent as usual, where they were settled anticipating dawn. Arion had remained in the human form he used by day, to assist Mandy in the other preparations. Tutela sat peacefully in one corner holding the already dozing Tigris (tired from the day's long flight south through Utah), and Christyne pacing pensively back and forth, waiting for her muscles to slow down. 

They had made good time, and were already nearing the four-corners region that Arion, or rather Phantom (having been in his gargoyle form at the time) had indicated. They had camped in a public camping ground -- some distance away from the other humans, but still with the facilities that Mandy demanded like running water, restrooms, and hot showers. (This, Tutela had pointed out, was not camping -- it was only extended vacationing.) Their camp was along a hiking trail, within view of one of Utah's most spectacular features -- a pair of enormous sandstone arches. Many hundreds of feet high, the gargoyles had made good sport flying about them. Tigris had been simply elated at the spectacular sight of the red stone bridges so high in the air, and had begun making theories of fay like Sharm building them, despite Christyne's avid reassurances of scientific fact. 

After all, Tigris argued (quite brilliantly for her young age), science reasoned up until 1996 that gargoyles are myths -- and there they stood. What good could science possibly be? 

Christyne demonstrated that science was a tool used to meet an end - that was the only point she would defend. She showed Tutela the device she had bought form the Xanatos company, using a laser to cut down a tree and start the fire. 

"Sit down, Christy -- you're making me nervous." Tutela insisted. 

"I can't help it. Call it intuition or adrenaline that hasn't worked itself out of my system yet, but something is wrong." 

"If so, we will handle it when it presents itself -- not before." 

Christyne nervously sat. She glanced at her watch -- plenty of time still before the sun rose. "Why haven't we heard from Sharm?" 

"A question asked of Matthew for the last number of years." Arion pointed out. 

Christyne continued to twitch with anxiety, stood up and began pacing again. Tutela sighed. "Just don't wake Tigris up." 

  
  


  
  


Arion and Mandy had taken up their mindset to guard the camp during the day as dawn neared. Christine had settled herself in the center of the tent to practice relaxation techniques. Mandy made a few of her typical quips on just how effective relaxation techniques could possibly be on gargoyle physiology. 

An overwhelming calm settled on the camp as the final minutes arose. Now it was Arion who seemed to be nervous, as he insisted on repacking all the gear quite unnecessarily. (Tutela found the entire situation infinitely amusing.) As all was quiet except for Arion's clanging around outside the tent, the gargoyles felt that the time was at hand, stood, and took their poses to great trouble should it appear. 

And the sun rose. 

All at once, Arion leapt to his feet. Glancing in the tent, Tutela had turned to ivory, Tigris to stone in Tutela's arms, but Christyne stood, blinking, in her fearsome pose -- remaining flesh. 

Christyne hadn't seemed to have noticed, something else enraptured her attention. Small lines of energy had begun to encircle her arms and legs -- thin, white threads of magical power that soon spread over more and more of her body. 

Mandy leapt to her feet, standing beside Arion -- her face stunned. She hadn't seen such power since Avalon, over two decades ago! Christyne had tried brushing it away, but it didn't seem to be harming her -- only baffling her, as it continued to cover her body. It gave a ringing noise in the air. 

Arion turned and leaned into Mandy's shoulder. "I CAN'T LOOK!" 

"Arion?!!! Wha...?!!!" 

"MY LOVE...!!!" Christyne cried out at the last moment before she was enveloped. 

Then the magic vanished, and the gargoyle woman with it. Mandy looked on, appalled, as Arion wept into her shirt. 

  
  


What followed, Christyne could only describe as a jolt, and when it hit her she screamed. It was a blood curdling sound that no gargoyle had ever before given. She was bathed in a pool of power so great that it coursed through her, electrifying her flesh so that she was certain she was being fried from the inside out. 

Vague pictures flashed across her mind -- a thousand incohesive images and sensations that meant everything and nothing to her all at once. A calm summer's day turned into a violent and bloody night, turned into a dragon flying on the wind, turned into a pool of chemicals spilled across a countertop, turned into a dockworker moving crates, turned into a schoolboy teasing a classmate, turned into an animal feeding, a ball dropping, a blue cat with wings setting off nuclear explosions... on and on and on... 

She tried to think, but the very attempt was met with chaos. She tried to move, but it was as though her arms, legs, wings, and tail had all been ripped from her, and that she could no more than flounder in the abyss of space. 

Time passed -- how long was impossible to determine when one is writhing in this confusion and torture. Struggling beyond all hope to regain herself, Christyne's only (and what she thought to be her last) coherent thought was to scream out in agony... 

"SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRMMM!" 

  
  


Christyne's flesh simmered still in her own blood as Sharm gently poured handfuls of pondwater across her bare flesh. The raindrops added to the bath, and sometimes came away from contact with her skin with a hiss, crackle, and puff of steam. 

"Say something to me, Christine... it's impossible for you to be dead..." 

Christyne could muster no strength -- she couldn't move. She felt like she was dying moment by moment. Miraculously however, she found her eyelids, and opened them. She found herself looking straight up into Sharm's concerned eyes. Her red hair was backdropped by evergreen trees and the early dawn sky. The expression on Sharm's face was more concerned than Christine had ever seen her. Christyne's skin burned upon her body as it slowly cooled. She was naked, but Sharm seemed concerned about not covering her as of yet until she was cool. 

"Please tell me you haven't been like this for as long as I think you have..." 

"Just... let me... die... here..." Christyne struggled to whisper. 

"No, you'll recover Christine! Eventually you will feel much better, but you must pull through!" 

"Wha... what happened?" 

"Keep talking to me. You were thrown into the Realm of Chaos." 

"Ch... chaos?" 

"You're lucky you survived at all, it's a place where all the forces of nature itself are in collision. There is no time there, so you may as well have been in there for a thousand years now, even though it's only been a couple of days." 

"I feel so sick..." 

"I know." 

Christyne groaned, and shifted her sprawled position in the grass to one of more comfort. Sharm leaned over her, picked her up, and slowly lowered her down into the pool. The water shocked her, how icy it was! There was a crackle of steam from the water as she was slid underneath the surface. She felt her bare skin touch the sand on the bottom -- it was cool and inviting. 

"How much has your mother told you about me? Everything that she knows?" 

"Yes..." 

"Well, I'm going to tell you about my childhood." 

Christyne could not grasp this idea for a moment. Sharm? A child? 

"My mother wasn't Titania, or Maab, or any of those others. My mother was the simple friend of Titania -- a human woman who miraculously managed to amuse the immortal endlessly. Before my mother died, she charged Titania with this oath: to protect her child, me, at any cost. The year was 50 B.C. or so -- she was burned at the stake. Unlike Arion's father, the blue monstrosity, she took the oath very seriously. On my sixteenth birthday she saw how time was affecting me, and realized that someday time would kill me. She decided she had to protect me from time itself as well. She might as well have placed me on a cooking pan, tossed me in the oven, and baked me for 80 minutes like a plate of cookies. I was tortured in the Realm of Chaos at Titania's bidding for the same eternity of time without time, just like you just were. When Titania drew me out, I was a full-blooded member of the third race with as much power as Oberon and Titania ever had." 

Christyne's head moved, resting above the water. "You were born human?" 

"My name was Isabel Clucas. I received my name Sharm from Titania." 

Suddenly, as though having just been shocked, Christyne's hands sudden clasped her face. "You mean I'm a...?!!!!" 

"You're a fairy, like me." 

  
  


  
  


"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Christyne screamed in horror. Sharm immediately leapt to grab the woman before she moved -- Christyne had a habit of doing herself harm in these situations. 

Reflected in the dawn's light on the pond, the flaming red head struggled to restrain the woman beneath the water, a head taller than Sharm, with similar large pointed ears, and a head of brilliant fluorescent pink hair. 

"TELL ME THIS IS REVERSIBLE, SHARM!" 

"Calm down, Christyne, don't work yourself up again! You have no idea what you're doing!" 

"This is nightmare! My whole entire life is a nightmare! Why does this always have to happen to me? Why can't I just be who I am?!!!" Christyne wailed, bursting into tears as Sharm attempted to restrain her. 

"Didn't your mother's own life get better after her trials? It's the same thing here dearie!" 

Christyne continued weeping, but stopped resisting. Sharm picked her up out of the water, and felt that her skin, while still warm, was no longer hot. Wanting to immediately cover her bare skin from the day, she reminded herself she couldn't -- not yet. Instead, she made due with creating a black woolen cloak from the air, and wrapping Christyne in it like a very large doll. 

Silently, Sharm sighed, watching the woman cry. Sharm cursed the one that had ordered both her changes, her transplanting, time removal, and all of it as though she were some mere mortal who wouldn't mind. Sharm knew better -- it had been HER once. Silently, Sharm cursed Oberon. 

  
  


  
  


"Really, I want to try it again." Christyne replied. 

"Are you sure, dearie?" 

"I'm sure." 

Once more, Christyne took a couple of steps before collapsing to the earth in a heap of woman and cloak and began weeping once again. 

"Come on..." Sharm encouraged, helping her up again. 

"I can't make it..." 

"Yes you can. I can make you cover more ground than you are actually walking by using magic, but you have GOT to walk!" Sharm hefted the older woman up over her shoulder, and started forward again. "We have to make it to the castle before noon." 

"Castle?" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Sharm beat on the door three times -- for luck if nothing else. "You've never traveled with me on one of my adventures, have you Chrissy? Just wait until you meet Grace! Well, I mean, as a person, not a necklace? All we need now is a magician to sell his services to the king of the castle by the sea." 

"Wha...?" 

"Nevermind." 

The door unbolted, and creaked open. A light shown inside, as the person inside saw the two women in dark cloaks standing out in the early morning rain. The rain pounding against the drawbridge made a fearful noise that almost drowned out their words. 

"Who goes there?" 

"Two wet women looking for a place to sleep." 

The door opened. "Of course, come in!" 

"Thank you..." Christyne breathed as Sharm assisted her walking over the threshold. 

  
  


Within twenty minutes they were holding mugs of herbal tea and wrapped in warm blankets. Christyne shivered slightly, and Sharm waited on her. Christyne was treated like a woman with the flu, and Sharm did not attempt to dissuade this illusion. 

"I'm King Gorebash, and this is my castle." A large dragon was telling them. "You'll be our guests for while." 

"I hope we won't inconvenience you too greatly." 

"No problem at all. What are your names, pray tell my ladies?" 

"This is the Lady Arion, and I'm her Lady-In-Waiting Isabel." 

"Very well, Lady Isabel. I hope Lady Arion recovers soon." 

"As do I." 

"You'll be required to earn your keep here." He said, "but you guests in need are always welcome." 

"Then my first task will be to arrange for a dress for my Lady." Sharm bowed. The nobleman nodded, smiled, and left. 

Christyne weakly turned to Sharm, took her sleeve, and began pulling on it. "Sharm... Where are we? Are we in a different time?" 

"No, the Illuminati lost my gate, remember? The year is still 2010. This is another world. Remember that big block of Ivory? I got it from another place like this one. This place is made more strongly with the third magic than ours is. It's known as a Fairy Realm, and there's lots of them. As an effect, magic is much more commonplace, but don't start testing your powers just yet! It's not normal to be this powerful even here. You could probably stand a fair fight against Oberon himself. You are NOT to even think about doing magic until I've told you exactly what to do. Your body has just gone through a very serious change, and you need to recover first." 

Christine nodded, uncomfortable with the idea of her having magical powers at all, but said nothing further on that subject. "How did we get here?" she asked instead. 

"I got a resonation in my magic -- you must have called my name or something while in the Void. I felt you were there, and fished you out." Sharm commented, observing tapestries on the walls. 

"What happened to Phantom... And mother? Tigris?" 

"They'll still be there when we get back with Matt." 

"Then why bring them as far as they'd come? They might have just stayed home... Mandy wouldn't have need to have left her family! ...And mine...?" 

"It won't be long, Christyne, I promise and you'll be back with them. I'd planned on doing the looking for Matthew myself, but with you here it might complicate things. Besides, it would have been hard enough to get Matt back home to our world, not to mention an entire CLAN!" 

"Why call me Lady Arion?" 

"We're sneaking around until we find Matthew -- Tutela says he's here somewhere. I just don't know where just yet." 

Christine sniffed, and took another sip from her drink. Concerned, Sharm looked down at her, and watched Christyne wipe away another tear. 

"The tears will stop once your body adjusts -- you don't need to encourage it." 

"I hate you, Sharm -- how many times has this happened to me? You put me in the past in a form that wasn't even mine... Why did you have to get me involved in all this?" 

"Look dearie, let's get something straight. I didn't WANT to start messing up your life -- I had no choice, even I have to obey orders sometimes." 

"Orders?" 

"Who do you think was responsible for sticking you in the Void in the first place? Not me certainly! Oberon put you in there and left you there -- **_I_** got you out. Oberon told me to make sure you were born a gargoyle. I couldn't mess up Terra's life like that, or yours, so that's why I took you and Terra into the past -- to make the adjustment into gargoyles a little easier. Oberon just wanted you to be a gargoyle so that you could lay a gargoyle's egg for him. You did that, he saw how well you absorbed and channeled power, so and now he wants his favored son to be wedded to another fay, not some mortal. That was why he did -- this -- to you." 

"Oberon has something coming." 

"I'm already working on that... not this adventure, but later. One day he's going to gather our child -- and you -- as fay to his island, and I won't let that happen. Together one day we'll give Papa Smurf what he's asking for. 

Christyne sighed. "I'm sorry." 

"It's alright. Are you ready to try on dresses? I need to find one that will fit you." 

Christyne shifted stance a moment. "I miss my wings." 

"Later, dear. Later." 

  
  


  
  


"It's been a number of years since we've seen the elves in these parts -- I'm very glad to see that your kind still thrive in this area." 

Christyne, dressed regally as Sharm had demanded her to appear as a noblewoman in a grey linen dress with a good deal of jewelry, merely smiled and nodded. King Gorebash stepped to one side, to allow the ladies to pass through the doorway out from the stairwell up onto the parapets. 

"Magnificent!" Christyne smiled. 

"I'm glad you like it, milady." said a new voice. Two other noble ladies were already standing at the edge, looking out. 

"Lady Arion, this is my lady wife, and Satana. Ladies, this is our guest, Lady Arion." King Gorebash introduced. 

Lady Draco was a very strong-willed looking lady, but Satana appeared to be a very pleasant lady as the two conversed. 

Sharm, meanwhile, couldn't have cared less about the idle chat. The sun was setting, and Sharm was inspecting all the balustrades, searching for him... 

"Milady!" Sharm suddenly blurted out. "There!" 

Christyne immediately looked. There, frozen in stone with a female gargoyle in his arms, reaching out fiercely with an anger frozen in his eyes that spoke volumes, was a gargoyle with an eagle's head. 

"Ah... That would be Iolair." Satana said. 

"Iolair?" Christyne asked. 

"The eagle. He is a very strange young gargoyle." 

"Who is she?" 

"Char." 

"Mates?" 

"No, only companions." 

"He's never taken a mate -- they've never learned why." Satana observed. 

"The sun will be down shortly." King Gorebash pointed out. 

As they waited, Sharm leaned over and whispered into Christyne's ear. "We have GOT to do something with your hair. That color is simply atrocious, and I know you haven't noticed it, but your eyes are the same color!" 

"How? 

"The void, of course! Just look what it did to my hair! I used to be a brunette! We'll change it later. They'll get suspicious if we change it now." 

Sunset was a magnificent display that Sharm and Christyne hadn't seen in three hundred years -- parapets of gargoyles coming to life despite their impediments of stone. Christyne felt a swelling inside her at the sight -- a reminder she missed it. 

King Gorebash began to introduce "Lady Arion" to the various members of the clan of this castle, and the two asked every single one of them what they know about this gargoyle "Iolair". 

The Leader-by-necessity - a black, stocky gargoyle by the name of Lysander told them how Iolair had always been known as "The Eagle", and that for many years he had been a very kind and chivalrous warrior in the rough, also being Iolair's mentor. Lex, a small nut colored female gargoyle with underarm wings was Lysander's second-in-command, told how Iolair first came to their clan -- alone from a distant land. Christyne was introduced to a mated pair who were Iolair's close friends, Demeter and Death Wing. 

"He's been spending too much time with the wrong crowd." Death Wing noted. 

"He was a real gentleman before the guest-clan came." Demeter added. 

"Guest clan? Oh no... not one preaching about the dangers of humans to all gargoyles and how all humans should be destroyed?" Sharm inquired. 

A surprised look had begun to form on Demeter's face, but another voice saved the female gargoyle the need of reply. 

"Yes, to try and save these good matriarchs before it is too late for this entire clan. A worthwhile quest, wouldn't you say Malcora?" 

Sharm cringed. "Oh rats. Rats rats rats rats rats..." 

Christyne didn't even need to turn around. "Yes, my queen." she said. Christyne knelt down on the stones of the castle parapet, and turned to face the new voice. "I live to serve, oh mighty queen of the true gargoyles." 

There was a chuckle. "Incredible. Even after all this time, the spell holds true. You may rise, Malcora." 

With her fluorescent hair covering a face that was still facing downward, Christyne stood before the attractive blue gargoyle wearing skimpy and torn leathers and miscellaneous items of jewelry. 

"Yes, Sharm she's under my control. You're not the only one who knows how to bury a spell." she laughed. Sharm fumed, but did not reply. 

"Come, my child. I believe you already know my companions." 

"Indeed I do." Christyne replied as though drugged, as three gargoyles stepped into view from behind the "Queen" -- a tan male, a bright orange beaked female, and Matthew C. Shelton in his gargoyle form, now thirteen years old. 

"It's too late, Sharm." 

  
  


  
  


"You can't make a person act against their will eternally, Demona! Not even I can!" 

"How would you know their will, you ridiculous little fay?" 

Sharm felt Christyne's hand on her vest. There was perfect clarity in Christyne's eyes -- only mourning. Matthew, standing aside the blue gargoyle, lifted his head -- his eyes were also clear. 

"It was only a spell to bring me to her, Sharm -- it's been gone since Avalon." Christyne winked sidelong at her. Sharm's eyebrow quirked, and she smiled. "Play along." 

"It's simple for someone as twisted as you to twist people to worshiping at your feet..." Sharm addded. 

The Queen ignored this remark from Sharm, but took Christyne's hand. "Welcome back. I trust the fay didn't inconvenience you too greatly in getting free of the stone curse they placed on you?" 

"It was nothing, my queen." 

"Excellent. How much power do you have?" 

"NO YOU DON'T!" Sharm suddenly exclaimed, and with one motion sent the gargoyles flying. Christyne's head shot around as Sharm took her arm. "DON'T EVEN TOUCH HER!" 

Then, in a moment, the parapet was gone, and they were back in the waiting room in the castle -- Sharm hovering in the air without a note of pretense. "All cover is gone -- Matt knows exactly who we are." 

Christyne rubbed her arm absently. "I'm so confused..." 

"What were you thinking?" 

"When I met her on Avalon, I told her off, but that won't happen for her for several years yet. I was under a lot of external power at the time because I was carrying Tanya. Now it's gone... and I remembered how much the Queen, Cearda, Kreiger... all of them had meant to me once..." 

"To bow DOWN to them?" 

"I always did. I found out about the spell she had on me when the Weird Sisters were instructing me on Avalon. I figured it was best to play along and not let Demona know that spell was broken." 

"I should have watched your growing up more closely." Sharm grumbled. "I need to know just how deeply into these kill-all-humans ideas Matthew is trapped. YOU need to break out of this. Your so-called 'Queen' is nothing more than a craftsman of lies, you'll see that soon enough." 

  
  


It was certainly no easy trick, but given about a half an hour and two hair pins, Mike Shelton managed to pick a lock on his cage. The moment the latch undid itself, Mike immediately looked around to see if any of the creatures had heard the noise. The one they called "Phantom" -- his ears immediately twitched, and he glanced at Mike. Mike pretended to look completely innocent. The creature decided then to face his chair in Mike's direction while he wrote in his notebook. 

No matter, Mike thought, only another hour until sunrise. On her pallet, Ket moaned, and turned over in her sleep. "No... please... don't hurt me..." she muttered in her sleep, before her voice dropped below a mutter, and she was quiet again. Phantom's gaze wandered from Ket over to Mike -- where Phantom's eyebrows dropped into a scowl. 

"You are a lucky man I don't kill you right now." 

"So? Go ahead?" 

"Christyne would not like it." 

"What does she care about me?" 

"You are her father?" 

"I never gave rise to such demonish spawn as you." 

"Look who's talking." Tigris added from the background -- revealing that she'd been listening to the conversation. 

Tutela regarded Mike with visible anxiety. "I married you because I thought your eyes were open." 

Mike scowled. "Terra died -- a long time ago. Don't even try that on me again -- I won't believe it." 

Tigris moved along on all fours to where Mike was standing in the iron webbing of their modified tiger-cage. "What would you believe? That the president works for some secret society, and the aliens exist and are fighting a civil war, and have left guardians here on earth?" 

Mike blinked -- that was stupid. "Of course not." 

"Humans can be narrow minded at times." Phantom pointed out. Tutela sighed. 

Mike smiled to himself. 50 minutes to go, roughly... 

  
  


  
  


"Iolair!" The fire-feathered gargoyle called out across the parapets. 

The eagle-headed one on the far-parapet looked up. "Cearda?" 

"Her highness is holding a meeting." 

Iolair and the female who's paw he'd been holding smiled at each other, broke, and Iolair spread his feathered wings, and coasted to Cearda's balustrade. 

Cearda led Iolair down a set of stairs into the interior of the castle. As they turned down the central hallway, before Iolair had the chance to turn a corner after Cearda, a shadow suddenly fell on the gargoyle. 

There was a momentary struggle before Iolair stopped, blinked, and looked his attacker in the eyes. "Sharm!" 

"Leave me alone, Sharm. Whatever it is you want, you are not going to get it." 

"What if there is nothing I want from you?" 

"What are you doing here, then?" 

Sharm stood up, and shifted back to her natural self. "I came to bring **you** something." 

Iolair folded his arms. "What? I doubt there's anything you could bring me that I could want." 

Sharm, annoyed at his stubborn manner, motioned down the hall behind them. Iolair gave her an odd look, but followed her direction down the hallway. Out of the darkness another fey figure stepped into Iolair's view. Her head was down, and as she came into view, she looked up at him. 

The lower part of Iolair's maw dropped open. 

"Chr... Chrissy?" 

"Yes, Matt. It's me." 

"Buh... buh... HOW?!!!" 

"Sharm." Christyne pointed at Sharm. 

"Actually, you would never have been 'killed' if Oberon hadn't been messing with your life -- I'd blame him." 

Iolair's eyes were wide, as he struggled for the words. Lady Arion opened her arms, and Iolair suddenly found himself within them. 

Sharm couldn't help but to smile without laughing this time -- there was a tear of joy in 'Lady Arion''s eye. 

"You've gotten bigger." 

Iolair searched for something to say. "You... you're a fairy." 

Christyne sighed. "Yeah... I'm also a gargoyle -- not exactly by choice." 

"Why are you here?" 

"For you. We've been looking for you for a while, and Sharm finally had an idea where to look for you." 

"How did you find me?" 

"Tigris is alive." Christyne informed him. 

Iolair's eyes widened again. "T... Tigris?" 

"Cassandra saved her from her gunshot wound, just like she saved you from the fall -- but you'd already run off." 

Iolair's eyes fell to the floor. "I... I can't go back. Not now." 

"Why?" Sharm protested. 

Iolair was silent for a long moment. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. 

"You have to go -- NOW! Leave here! Go home!" Iolair told them, shunting them down the hallway away from the approaching footsteps. 

Sharm and Christyne ducked into a room down the hall, out of sight. Iolair turned, just as out of the dark hall, two gargoyles appeared. 

"We were wondering where you had gone." 

"Lost your way, Iolair?" 

"Just thinking." 

"Demona's looking for you." 

"Lead on." 

With that, Cearda and Char turned to lead him down the hallway they had come from only moments before. 

Meanwhile, hidden in a doorway, 'Lady Arion' looked at Sharm. "Okay, now what?" 

  
  


  
  


"I can't help you with this. I can keep spells off you, but I can't control anyone's actions. Remember what I've taught you, now." Sharm encouraged. 

Gathering herself in several deep breaths, 'Lady Arion' entered the conference room. 

There, the gargoyles were standing around a fireplace -- talking, apparently. "You called for me, Demona?" 

"Ah, Malcora!" Demona said in her saucy way. Hands on her hips, Demona regarded the smaller elven thing that stood before her. "We believe we may have an incantation to make you yourself again. Would you like that?" 

"I make no mystery of the fact that this was all against my will. However, you need to understand that I've been human since we last fought wing to wing." 

"Do you... sympathize with these... humans?" 

"Some, but not all." 

"Spoken honestly." 

There was silence between them for a moment. The other gargoyles were silent, listening with well-attuned ears. "You abandoned me." 

"Did I?" Demona retorted. 

"You allowed the human to take me. I depended on you. Did you not tell me we would die together?" 

"You did not die." 

"You did not know that -- it changes nothing. You abandoned my entire CLAN to mercy of the humans." 

"They refused to follow us." 

"Some of them sympathized with you -- because of you, the gargoyles of Earth began to perish!" 

"Lies!" 

"Because of you, the hunter began destroying all of the Scottish gargoyles -- even let the Isle of Man gargoyles -- many of which agreed with you, you let them all be destroyed! You even hunted down the descendants of Tutela yourself!" 

Demona hissed at her. 

"Iolair!" she commanded. The eagle-headed gargoyle stood forward from Demona's companions. 

"My queen?" 

"She will not help us -- kill her." 

"How typically human of you, Demona." Christyne scowled. 

"I cannot." Matthew replied. 

Demona turned to face him. "Why not?" 

"May I remind you that our presence among the fairy realms is through the grace of the fey? To endanger that treatise..." 

"This one is a traitor to them -- they would thank us to deal with her." 

"I beg to differ." Sharm's voice came from behind 'Lady Arion'. "She is among the most favored of the **humans** of King Oberon's court." 

"The consort of his favorite son!" Demona spat the first words out tersely. "Nothing more than a low level animal that his son has found himself infatuated with!" 

Christyne's face was red -- her gaze trailed to the floor again. 

Suddenly, throughout the chamber, a commotion spread like wave from the fireplace to where they stood. The crowd parted another group of gargoyles came forward -- pushing the others briskly out of the way. "DEMONA! You traitor!" 

Demona seemed to be getting a headache, as she touched her brow with one paw, and turned to face the other. There, resplendent in green velvet, a darker blue gargoyle woman stood facing up to Demona with a fierce expression. 

"Jade..." Demona acknowledged her. 

"I hear that you've been going around demanding executions again! I thought I had your word? Now what are you going to tell me? That you were only testing me this time? I don't buy it!" 

"Oh, stop prattering Jade..." 

"Prattering, am I? Trust me, if you want prattering, I can give you that too." 

"Seems to me that you are busy. I shall attend thee at a later date." Christyne bowed, going back into her 'Lady Arion' act. 

She moved to withdraw, but Iolair's paw came to rest on her shoulder. 

"I though I told you to leave?" he whispered. 

"We came for you." she replied, turning to face him. Almost without helping it, she touched the sides of his avian face. "We told Tigris we wouldn't come back without you." 

"Then you told her foolishly." Demona cut in. 

"Tigris is dead, is she not? Can your powerful friends bring old friends back from the dead?" Cearda muttered in Iolair's ear. 

If Christyne had still been in Gargoyle form, she would have hissed at Cearda. Iolair placed a paw on Christyne's should, restraining her. "Tigris is dead. She died in my arms." 

"Haven't you ever told them?" Sharm asked. 

Iolair paused. "It was... never important." 

"Not important that you were human once too? My brother by blood and sire, not only rookery?" 

Demona's gaze flickered from Christyne to Iolair. 

Jade burst out laughing. "They argue amongst themselves! They cannot even decide if they are even gargoyles! A contemptible lot of them, if I ever saw any." 

Demona was furious. With one of her toes, she drew a line in the dirt on the castle floor. She motioned to Iolair. "What are you?" She motioned to her side of the line. "Warrior?" Demona motioned to Christyne and Sharm's side of the line. "Or Woman?" The word was laced full of disgust as Demona said it. 

Iolair stepped onto Demona's side of the line -- refusing to meet Sharm's shocked gaze. 

"Hmmmm... even so." Jade commented. "I still think you wouldn't know the gargoyle way if it came and hit you in the head." 

"What do you recommend, then?" 

"Do it the way the gargoyles have always done it -- each side choose a contestant. If yours wins, Demona -- then Iolair has won his warriorship yet again, and I'll stop 'pestering' you. If your champion fails, however, he is not a gargoyle at all, you have been keeping the company of a human, and you and your followers will leave here because of your hypocrisy." Jade folded her wings, decisively. 

Demona was visibly trapped -- she couldn't refuse. Jade grinned -- she knew all to well that Demona would rather die than refuse her challenge. 

"Very well, Iolair shall be my champion -- he is my best, after all." 

Iolair bowed. "My pleasure." 

Jade looked at Sharm with indifference. "And you?" 

"I move you fight for us, Jade." Christyne spoke up. 

Jade's self-assured smile grew larger. "With pleasure." 

  
  


  
  


The beat of the drum was quick. The courtyard was filled with humans and gargoyles alike, as well as and the duo of fay sisters. Iolair bore Cearda's sacred halberd, while Jade was prepared to meet him with nothing more than a quarter staff. Jade smiled, and they faced off. The drum rolled, and was quiet. 

Iolair spun on one foot, wings spread, gave a wicked undercut with the head of the halberd. In order to avoid having both her legs hit, Jade jumped backwards. However, she didn't loose her advantage, she jumped into the fray with the end of her quarter staff driven toward the eagle-headed gargoyle's eagle head. He parried, and their staffs were locked together. Jade had superior strength, but Matthew appeared to have a great deal of cunning. While struggling over the staffs, Iolair just about pulled Jade off her feet with a swipe of his tail. 

The humans cheered for Jade, and the majority of the gargoyles cheered Iolair on. Sharm and 'Lady Arion' remained on the sidelines, watching, but not saying anything, along with their opposers, Demona and Cearda. 

"Where did he learn the skill?" Sharm inquired of Cearda. 

"You see that one over there -- Lady Lysander? She was the greatest of the warriors of this castle's clan before we joined them. Iolair chose her as a mentor when he was still very young, and he was already very well trained by the time he was expelled." 

"Expelled?" Christyne inquired. 

"Iolair killed one of the humans -- payment for a wrong the human did him. That is, after all, the gargoyle way." 

"The clan threw him out?" 

"No, more like he left of his own choice. The humans were planning on murdering the clan in their sleep. Iolair had joined my clan, and we warned them before the humans could get to them. Then we came here, and I suspect these humans wanting to do the same." Cearda explained. 

"The humans must die." Demona added. "That is the only way to draw the line." 

"This clan accepted him again?" 

"They had no choice -- he was of my clan now, and we saved their lives. If they didn't accept us, they would be ungrateful to their saviors." Demona smiled to herself. 

"Tell me of this clan, Cearda." Sharm inquired after a rising cheer from the crowd had quieted. "They are mostly of Scottish stock. Why don't they return to their homelands?" 

Demona scowled. "The hunter would hunt them down and destroy them in their sleep. It is safer for them fighting for their existence here." 

"Our British brethren have already been destroyed. Rushen's uprising was a good example of this." Cearda pointed out. 

Iolair had grabbed Jade from behind, and had her in a hold. Jade twisted about a few ways trying to break his hold. 

"Iolair? What does the name mean?" Sharm inquired. 

"The Gaelic name for the eagle." Cearda explained. 

Jade back elbowed Iolair in the face, and he stumbled. Taking her advantage, she twisted, brought her quarter staff to bear, and brought it across his head. 

The crowd was suddenly alive. Iolair tried to take a swipe from Jade's middle, but she had already taken his grip. Iolair broke her grip and slung her over his head. In the execution of this move, Jade had already prepared her next one -- upon hitting the ground, she twirled, and Iolair -- still woozy from the hit to his head, didn't realize it until it was too late. Jade's tail took his feet from under him, and Jade was able to tackle him and wrestle him to the ground. 

"The game is played." 'Lady Arion' announced. 

Jade smiled, and helped Iolair to his feet. Iolair bowed. 

The drummer trilled. 

"Demona and her clan have lost." Jade announced. 

"You wish to break our treatise?" Cearda inquired. 

"We are grateful for your saving us, but we do believe the gargoyle way to give in to such works of darkness and secret murder as you practice." Jade bit back at her. 

Demona scowled, rising to her feet. She hissed at Iolair, and spat at his feet, before scaling the walls. Cearda placed a paw on Iolair's shoulder -- the look they exchanged was unreadable. Char followed, but Iolair looked bitterly away from her. 

"She will learn -- in time. We all will." Cearda observed. "I'll see to that. Fare thee well, Iolair." 

Iolair nodded, defeated. 

Jade crowed -- her clan echoed her. The small nut colored leader-by-necessity stood to address the clan. Sharm led Christyne and Iolair away from the courtyard. 

  
  


  
  


"She no longer has hold on you, and she's rejected Matthew." Sharm explained to Christyne. 

Christyne sighed. "It's hard to give up any companion." 

"Friends are always that way. Malcora was a very different person than you." 

"Perhaps... but I understand how Demona feels." 

Iolair still appeared defeated in spirit, he was seated on the balustrade with his head hanging. Sharm moved to speak to him, but Christyne held her back. 

"Leave him be for a while." Christyne advised Sharm. 

However, they were saved the need. The dark colored Lady Lysander, dressed in a japanese Gi, approached him. Neither of the fay girls heard their conversation. Lady Lysander gave him purple belt to wear with his version of her oriental robe. 

"She's promoting him in battle skills." Christyne observed. 

Sharm shrugged. "Whatever helps him, I guess." 

When finished, Lady Lysander went to rejoin her clanmates. 

"They'll be making him leave again." A new voice told Christyne and Sharm. They turned to find Satana watching the entire exchange. "It's time you go home." 

"It's about time." Sharm shrugged. With a motion of one hand, she created a portal of light in the air in front of her. 

Iolair turned to face them. Christyne took him in her arms. "Let's go home." 

Sadly, he nodded. 

"TRAAAAAIIIITOR!" Came Demona's screaming battle cry. Looking skyward, out of the darkness, her clan was diving in to attack! 

"Go!" Sharm exclaimed, thrusting brother and sister through the portal -- and diving through after them. 

  
  


Before the rise of dawn, Phantom sighed and stopped writing. "Time to sleep, Tutela." 

"I can still feel it when it is near. I haven't lost that feeling in all these years." She commented. 

Phantom shifted to his native form of Prince Arion. The sun peaked just above the horizon, and Tutela turned to stone. 

There was a commotion behind Phantom, as he turned to find Mike making a mad dash from his open cage door to where Keturah slept. From the camping-kitchen table, he retrieved a meat clever, and raised it over Keturah. 

"NO!" Phantom shouted. Before Mike could bring the knife down, his hands were stopped by a figure hovering in mid-air. "What are you doing?!!! Are you mad?!!! She's your daughter!!!" 

"She's sided with the enemy! You have poisoned her mind!" 

"You poisoned her mind, we're trying to help her heal! Would you slay your own daughter and grandchildren?" 

Mike spat. "Grandchildren? Those demon-spawned devils? Keturah is my daughter, but in war there must be casualties!" 

"You are mad..." Phantom breathed -- astonished. 

Mike twisted the knife in his grip. The blade slashed across Phantom's wrist, but it glanced off as though it were made of plastic. He raised the knife again to hurt Keturah, but Arion's fist connected with his face. Mike dropped the knife, teetered, and feel onto the ground unconscious. 

Arion rubbed in knuckles. "Instead of a cage, perhaps we should use chains -- or a straight jacket." Of course, no one heard him say this. 

  
  


  
  


After making sure Keturah was sleeping soundly, Arion flew over the sandy landscape and shrubbery to the great arches. He came to rest between the two grand arches in the park, and checked his watch. 

The sun set. Tutela broke from her stone form, spraying shards of Ivory in all direction. She regarded Mike with an intrigued look -- handcuffed to a Joshua tree. 

"Have some trouble?" 

"Nothing I couldn't handle. Five, four, three..." 

Right on time, one of the two arches suddenly came alive -- the space between the rocks had suddenly filled with magic and light. 

Christyne -- transformed into a fluorescent pink-hair fay stepped through, bringing along the now full grown gargoyle who had been Matthew C. Shelton -- her brother. 

"My love!" Arion exclaimed, and rushed over to meet her. 

She held up a hand. "Watch out!" 

Sharm followed her through the portal, when suddenly there was a scream. Demona and her clan appeared, flying out of the portal. "Get Ket! They mean to kill us!" 

Fast as lightning, Arion was by Keturah's bedside, and picked the girl up in his arms. Keturah snapped into wakefulness. 

"Whu... What's going on?" 

"We're under attack." Arion said quickly. 

Char dived down from the air, foot first with a short sword in hand. Arion jumped into the air with Keturah in hand. Char adjusted her dive to follow him. 

"Stay up here -- I'll protect you." Arion instructed her, depositing her atop the great stone arch. Turning to face Char, he drew from thin air itself a large steel broadsword. "Face me, if you dare!" 

Demona just wanted Christyne. Mace in hand, she dived for her. Christyne saw her husband flying with Keturah, and suddenly felt a rush to go to him. Not seeing Demona, she involuntarily leapt into the air -- and let herself fly. 

Demona screamed with consternation as Christyne jumped into the air. Changing her dive, she landed on the rockface, and then launched herself into the air again. This time Christyne heard the scream, and turned to face her. 

Char beat against Arion's sword, and threw it from his hands. "It was too obnoxious anyway." He muttered, and shifted back to Phantom. Char threw her short sword off the side, and met him paw-to-paw. 

They struggled atop the stone arch. Phantom gave footing, and the backed into Keturah. Char back elbowed her in the face. The blow left Keturah without her balance, and she felt herself beginning to slip on the sandy surface of the stone arch. She flailed her legs, looking for solid ground, but it gave way and found herself tumbling through space... 

Keturah's scream turned Christyne for the heat of her anger, toward the skies. "KET!" Christyne shouted in horror. Dear Ket! If only you could fly! "Fly!" she commanded. 

The dark shape of Christyne's queen, with eyes ablaze, came rapidly swirling down upon her with mace in paw. Christyne suddenly realized that her good sword -- the one Arion had given her -- had been burned away in the Realm of Chaos. She wished she had it again. She began to feel a tingling in her hands and a rush of energy like the night she had defeated Obscurmalo -- all at once she had her wings again -- she was a gargoyle again! She had her sword in her hand! 

"Your magic cannot save you, Malcora!" Her opponent exclaimed, and their weapons collided. Christyne's eyes glowed, and her wings found a draft -- a draft that seemed to move her wherever she wished to go as she battled the wicked blue one. 

"You've grown weak, Malcora. Motherhood was never kind to humans." 

"You have a child too, born the same way as each of mine." 

The queen snarled, and they twisted about in each other's grip. 

"I loved you once! You meant everything to me!" 

"An example had to be made!" Demona replied. 

"I was your most loyal, and you betrayed me!" 

"You disobeyed me! You were in love with a human! Just like your evil father!" 

"Not all humans are evil -- and not all Gargoyles are protectors!" 

To this, she snarled. "Now time to die!" 

Christyne parried around and pinned her weapon as they set foot atop the arch. "You forget. You abandoned me to the fay -- they made me an immortal." 

The other loosened and banished her mace. "You allowed yourself to be wooed by one... and now you are more vulnerable to iron." 

Christyne's eyes widened -- she was right! She was a fay -- Fay were killed with iron! Distracted, Christyne was hurled to the ground, as her opponent took a scrape out of her cheek with her mace. the wound healed instantly, and the blood on the mace vanished. 

Christyne made to escape, but the queen held her down. The queen raised her mace, ready to obliterate Christyne's head into the rock... 

The falcon's cry filled the air. The queen looked away, and was suddenly hit upside the head by a figure diving at her, on the wing. Christyne rolled over and escaped, took the queen's legs, and tackled her to the ground -- removing her of her mace. The queen snarled, broke from Christyne's grasp, and fled away into the night, screaming as she went. 

Her fellows saw her leave, and bounded to follow. Char was a little slow -- Phantom was too busy throwing her off the arch for a few moments before Char had the chance to follow on the wing. 

Christyne saw the figure that had screamed like a falcon and hit the queen, descending toward the camp below. It was humanoid, but had a falcon's wings. She watched as Christyne followed her and landed beside her. 

"KET! You're alright, thank God!" Christyne exclaimed. "Yuh... You have wings!" 

Ket ran a hand through her hair -- which had all changed to ebony feathers, forming a plume along her head and neck. "Feathers too... and I can scream like a falcon." 

"How?!!!" Christyne asked, looking at Sharm. 

"Wasn't me!" Sharm shrugged. Phantom said the same. 

Then Christyne realized it -- she had wanted Ket to fly. She blanched... remembering her unleashed fay powers. "Oh my... I think **I** did it... oh dear I'm sorry..." 

Ket looked at the ground. "Well I sorta... like it... I mean -- it's better than being a dark smear on the mountain path! Thank you, sis..." 

Christyne stood for a minute... baffled. Ket had been the most human of her entire family... she always wanted to have wings? 

Christyne, surprised, embraced her sister. 

"GRRRRRAHHH! NOOOO!" Mike shouted, pulling against Phantom's magical handcuffs, embedded in the Joshua tree. "Freaks! All of you are freaks and monsters!" Mike began to bite at the handcuffs, as if her could tear them free with his jaw. 

The clan glided down the hillside to the area where Mike was chained. "He'll never relent. Hatred has torn his mind." Phantom reported. "He tried to kill Keturah during her sleep, babbling about casualties of war." 

Keturah was visibly disturbed by this. Christyne turned to Tutela. "Mother?" 

"If I were a human, I'd have him confined to a mental institution." Tutela sighed, regretfully. 

"A gargoyle would have killed him long ago." Christyne observed. "But father...?" Christyne touched her father's brow. "I know how it feels to have so many... inner demons." Christyne closed her eyes, concentrating. Sharm's eyes widened with concern. 

Mike became limp, and fell asleep. Phantom motioned and the handcuffs vanished. Christyne took her father's limp form in her arms, and laid him down at the base of the tree. 

"Time... it's the best healer I know." 

"Come... let's take up camp and go from this place." Tutela agreed, motioning. 

"Chrissy..." Ket stuttered, looking behind them at the arch. The portal had long since vanished after Demona's clan had come through from the fairy world, but Keturah was looking at the eagle-headed figure gliding down the mountain side after them. "Is that...?" 

"It's Matthew." 

Keturah's face broke, and she ran forward. "Matt!" 

"Ket!" Iolair exclaimed, arms wide. The two met in an embrace. "It's so good to see you!" 

Walking back to camp, Christyne told them to be sure Matt didn't forget Mother. Tutela eyes watered with tears. "My son! My son!" she cried. 

"Okay, okay, enough already! Sugar, sugar, sugar -- Ack! I'm gonna be sick!" Sharm began babbling excitedly. "Come on! Let's go HOME already! I've got first dibs on the shower! Iiiiiiit's a small world, Aaaaaaaaaafter all!" 

Christyne new better than to inquire about Sharm's sudden interest in hygiene, and helped packing up camp. Christyne talked with Tutela about making plans to pick up her daughter from Mandy's house. 

"Where is Mandy, anyway?" Tutela asked. 

"She went home yesterday -- morning sickness. You were Ivory at the time, Tutela." Phantom explained. Christyne laughed. 

Iolair followed Christyne, and tried to help with the chore. He seemed out of place, but did his best. Arranging a pile of boxes and cartons, his hands suddenly met with another reaching for the same bottle of milk. 

A blue paw. 

Iolair looked up. Tigris looked up at him. 

"Yuh... you're alive!" he exclaimed, helping her to a standing position. 

"In the flesh, **monchere**." she smiled, laughing at an old joke. 

Iolair blinked a few moments, before he remembered the inside joke. "It's been so long!" In each other's arms, lips met. 

  
  


**

Epilogue

**

  
  


Dawn broke, and Mike found himself looking about himself at Arches National Park, laying underneath a tree. He wondered how he'd come to be there. It had something to do with gargoyles, he was certain of that -- he'd been hunting them. How had he gotten here? He looked about him, expecting to see them. He found nothing but an abandoned campsite in the shadow of the arches. 

After walking a few miles, he made it to a park diner, and ordered himself breakfast. 

"Have ye heard, matey?" said the bartender. 

"Heard?" 

"Gargoyles! In New York! Live ones, man!" the man rambled, as he worked behind the counter preparing various meals, and wiping his brow on the towel slung over his shoulder. "They finally proved they exist! They attacked this church back in '96 ye know...?" 

"Some of us always knew." 

"Amazing! Just amazing! We always thought we were the only ones on the earth who could think, and talk, and the likes. No sir! They had it right here -- they proved they are not only smart, but they've been hiding all this time." 

Mike sighed, stirring his coffee. 'So', he thought. 'It's finally happened.' 

The bartender looked at him -- expecting a reply. 

Mike regarded the man, and turned back to his coffee. "Perhaps... perhaps it should have stayed that way." 

  
  


Fly, fly little wing   
Fly beyond imagining   
The softest cloud, the whitest dove   
Upon the wind of heaven's love   
Past the planets and the stars   
Leave this lonely world of ours   
Escape the sorrow and the pain   
And fly again

Fly, fly precious one   
Your endless journey has begun   
Take your gentle happiness   
Far too beautiful for this   
Cross over to the other shore   
There is peace all one word   
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet   
Until we meet

Fly, fly do not fear   
Don't waste a breath, don't shed a tear   
Your heart is pure, your soul is free   
Be on your way, don't wait for me   
Above the universe you'll climb   
On beyond the hands of time   
The moon will rise, the sun will set   
But I won't forget

Fly, fly little wing   
Fly where only angels sing   
Fly away, the time is right   
Go now, find the light

****

"Fly", Celene Dion 

   [1]: mailto:cinnamon@xtdl.com



	7. Cearda's Battle

Writing begun: July 22, 1996   
Compiled by Dasha Ariel   
Compiled on: March 25, 2000

**Dedicated to the memory of Terese Sinclair.   
May our friendship outlast the trials of life.**

SETTING   
This story takes place **between** the time when Iolair and Tigris were reunited.   
The year is 2005 - BEFORE Phantom 6.

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This is not a G-rated fanfic! It contains some mild sexual references, references to nudity, and the aftermath of a rape. There is no language. It does contain transgendered themes, which means one or more characters may change gender. If you are offended by this idea, you may want to not read on. I would recommend an PG-13 rating. 

  
  


**Castle Gorebash**

**2005**

  
  


The bag was tossed around from child to child in a sequence, and whoever failed to catch it had to step from the circle. Young Aslan caught it, and tossed it to Black Night, where it went on to Satana, and then to Lysander. She tossed it lightly at the new gargoyle, the eagle headed child she had befriended. Eagle moved to try and catch it, tripped over his own tail, and fell down face first into the mud.

The assembled young rookery siblings laughed. Most calmed down quickly when they saw that the small boned gargoyle would not stand back up, but covered his eyes in humiliation. However, one of the young gargoyles did not stop laughing, but lay down on a nearby table, and rolled on it with hysterical burst of laughter every time he so much as looked at the muddy gargoyle child. The eagle- headed child's face muscles worked beneath his paws.

"Oh, stop it." Lysander accosted Mirror Fox.

"The eagle-child is strange and awkward." another human commented.

"He doesn't even know **how** to be a gargoyle!" Mirror Fox laughed.

"We all were awkward, once." Lysander sighed, patting young Eagle on the shoulder.

"But how can you trip over your **own** tail? I never did that!" Mirror Fox continued.

The eagle-headed child burst from the courtyard and into the rookery in tears.

The gargoyle children, except Lysander, laughed again. Lysander glowered at them all, and each other them, Mirror Fox included, swallowed their grins.

Above, on the parapet, Gorebash smiled, and turned to the rookery door.

  
  


The eagle-headed child knew that the rookery was only a place for disobedient young gargoyles to go to be humiliated and humbled. He was beyond care at his own humiliation. He stumbled on the steps, and sometimes tripped over his tail again and again, falling down in frustration and anger onto the stone steps. He didn't care - he just wanted to be alone.

In his mind, he cursed himself. Why wasn't he like all the others? Why didn't he look just like they did? Why did they treat his so differently?

Deep down inside, he knew why. If he were not now a gargoyle and impervious to the coolness of the rookery, he might have shivered. He held his arms, and slid down against one wall, allowing his wings to sit cockeyed around him.

The memories were still clear in his mind. The incredible white sorceress Fey who mixed her blood with his own to bring him back to life even as he lay dead. He remembered the time when he did not look strange. He had been a fair skinned young boy.

A human boy.

The child closed his eyes, and remembered their faces. Mirror Fox, Obsidiana, Lex, Lysander, they were all such a strange discovery to him... so like himself it seemed at first. Now he knew he would never be like them. He was different.

He remembered, for just a flash of a moment, his mother's face. Terra Christine Shelton, a face from another world, so full of anguish upon hearing the news that her son was dead. Michael Shelton, his father, a monument of strength, the face that did not mourn, but the child could feel his broken heart. That was the price he had paid to keep his life. His family, his life, even his own body. He bore an eagle's head and eagle's wings to remind him of them, of the price he had paid to buy back his life.

Stumbling drunkenly, he completed the journey to the base of the steps. Here, he tripped on a outgrown root, and fell again, barely catching his own fall once more before he hit the rock.

He stopped, and looked again. It wasn't a rock. Too smooth, too white, too round.

It was an egg.

The entire cavern below was filled with eggs of all sizes. Small white ones, to large green ones with blue splotches. Amazed, his humiliation forgotten, he explored the rookery with anxious anticipation, curiosity ablaze.

A blaze of flame brought the eagle-child's attention suddenly about. Lord Gorebash stood at the base of the steps, watching him. He had lighten a brazier to get his attention. The eagle child was so startled, he fell to his knees, which dug into the soft dirt floor.

Gorebash nodded to the eggs. A bit of fire lit a small brazier, and the eagle-child could see into the egg. Illuminated from without, the eagle-child could make out a small winged figure, moving slowly.

The child gasped with wonder. Gargoyle eggs! Might he have come from one of these, had he not been born of humans? What must it be like to be born of an egg?

Gorebash smiled, lowering his head beside him. "Pretty, aren't they?"

"Yeh... yes milord. Beautiful even." he stuttered nervously.

"I often come here when I am troubled. The gargoyles believe this is a holy place."

"It must be."

There was silence for a moment.

Images of the eagle-child's human parents danced before his mind. Somehow, Gorebash spoke of them. "You miss them, don't you?"

"Yes." the eagle-child began to cry.

Gorebash rested his large head near the small child. "Then cry. It is good to cry for those we have lost."

The eagle child looked at his four taloned paws. He grasped them before his face, cried out in anger, and wept.

Gorebash stayed with the little one until the dawn came.****

  
  


**Atlanta, Georgia**

**2005**

  
  


He was a small and lonely boy during most of the years he was among clan at Castle Gorebash. His skills at swordplay and with magic were nothing spectacular, and he always seemed angry and preoccupied. Lysander, the clan leader of the time and a great sorceress, kept the young gargoyle at her side, hoping to see him flower into something spectacular.

Alas, such was not the case. As time went by there were others who didn't care for his presence, and they made themselves known. Particularly bothersome were youngsters like Fox and Saber. They seemed to sense the young gargoyle's unease, and fed upon it. Despite having made some female friends among the gargoyles, he was - for the most part, a loner. He had a vile taste in his mouth for humans, something that no one could riddle out. He showed no interest in females, even after the time of his coming of age.

Therefore it did not take much prodding, did not take much time, and few were surprised when it happened.

He ran away from the clan.

Having crossed over from the fairy realms into "normal space" somewhere around Atlanta, was where he was first found by the Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir.

  
  


  
  


The forests were thick and rainy, and a fog hung in the air on the mid-winter morning. Dawn was not far away, and as the gargoyle glided north, he could be heard weeping.

The cry of another gargoyle filled his ear. There was a flash of orange, and the next thing young Matthew Shelton knew was that he was laying on his back in the middle of the forest with another gargoyle standing on top of him, a nasty looking weapon at his throat. It had a long pointed blade on it's tip like the point of a knife, and was connected to another, wider blade, like that of an axe. It seemed to radiate magical energy.

"Who are you?" The other gargoyles demanded. She was sun-bright orange with feathery wings, and had a beak and white hair. "Speak, or you die!"

"I have no names, but humans call me Eagle. I have no quarrel with you." It was then that he noticed a small silver device about her neck. It was like a large clasp, sealed with a brilliant stone - or a cuff.

"That's good that you have no quarrel, but I hardly need one to kill you, do I?" the female responded. "I am Cearda. It is the last name you shall hear before you die. What clan are you?"

"I... have no clan." Eagle shook his head. "And if you kill me, that only makes the humans that much stronger."

His words seemed to strike a chord in her, and she paused. "Why should you hate humans?"

"Why should you hate gargoyles?" he countered, undiplomatically.

"We shall see." Cearda replied, allowing him to rise to his feet. "Follow me."

Eagle nodded, and followed obediently.

Before long, Eagle found himself being introduced to another gargoyle, Cearda's traveling companion. This other bore a shocking red mane of hair that seemed to stand on end and light blue skin. She bore a golden crown and jewelry.

"BEHOLD!" Cearda said, "The queen of gargoyles! Demona!"

Queen of gargoyles, eh? Eagle thought. With that, the eagle-headed gargoyle prostrated himself on the earth before her.

"Cearda, what have we here?"

"A youngling without a clan, it appears."

"Rise, young one." the queen instructed him. Eagle stood. "...and state your intentions."

"I am searching for a new clan, my queen. If yours is not interested in me, then I shall depart your company none the wiser."

Cearda and Demona looked at each other. "But are you worthy of our company?"

Eagle was confused by the question. No one had ever questioned his worthiness before. Little did he know just how much he himself was going to question it in the days to come.

Without warning, Cearda attacked Eagle. Reflexively, the eagle-headed gargoyle snapped under the leaping gargoyle, and brought his tail across her face in the process. He stood to face her. They now stood in the opposite positions. His eyes were aflame.

Cearda crouched again, this time to spring lower and catch him before he could move. However, he immediately launched himself forward at her, and they met in the center. 

The contest had begun. 

Both were of nearly the same height and build. Cearda had a lot of strength over the eagle-headed one, but Eagle made up for it in cleverness. 

Cearda stuck her foot out to deliver a blow to him as he approached, and it stuck home. He quickly batted her foot out of the way, angrily. Cearda responded with two blows to the face, and Eagle toppled backwards. 

"You should have paid more attention to your lessons, **brother**." Cearda snarled. "Rule number one!" Suddenly, Eagle's tail snapped around both of Cearda's legs, and she slashed at them with her talons. As she did, she did not see his swing at her head. "There **ARE** no rules!"

The blow hit home, a blow to the face that would likely have broken a human's skull. 

Cearda roared, tipping over on one foot, and slashing his mid section. His Gi tore, but the rest of him moved quickly enough. Eagle swung again, and Cearda caught it. She had an iron grip, and at first Eagle was helpless against it.

Suddenly swinging his other fist and using his spiked knees, he suddenly hit Cearda's wrist, and freed his paws from her grasp.

"Kae!" he shouted, spun around on the balls of his feet, and slammed his foot into her stomach. She responded by slashing his shirt and chest so hard it drew blood across his breast.

"Not that you have anything there to damage, anyway." Cearda shrugged.

Eagle scowled angrily. Cearda laughed.

Eagle made a sudden dive for her wings, feigning. Cearda moved, but only slightly. She stuck at him with her fist. 

This Eagle grabbed her wrist and forearm, and twisted downward. He pulled back on her arm, pulling her back to him. He locked his arm around her neck, locking it with the other before Cearda could break his hold.

"I'm not waiting for you to like me, Cearda - only respect me!" Eagle pulled back with his hold, and there was a cracking noise. Eagle cursed.

At first, Eagle was afraid he what he heard was Cearda's neck. Cearda did begin to falter under his hold, but they were moving slowly now, like slow motion.

Then they turned to stone.

  
  


  
  


  
  


The first conscious thought that Eagle had, as he felt sleep leave him was to stretch. But a slight movement from his arm quickly changed his mind. His stone skin exploded off his form. He growled slightly, his grip loosening. It was all the opening Cearda needed. She leaned forward then twisted to the right, using her wings as extra impulsion; flinging the younger gargoyle off her back. 

Eagle went flying.

As he finally came to a sliding stop against the opposite wall he shook his head; dazed. Suddenly there was a thump on his collarbone. He looked at the offending object and saw Cearda's foot. Her retractable razor sharp middle claw slowly bobbing up and down. If it finished it's downward swing it would pierce his artery; he would bleed to death. His eyes quickly flickered up to Cearda's face. "Well? What are you waiting for?! Finish me off!" Eagle shouted, adrenaline still pumping in his words.

Cearda held up her halberd instead, letting it begin to glow. Her eyes flashed with fire as she brought it down on Eagle's skull...

  
  


Eagle awakened with a splitting headache. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. He awakened groggily, certainly not out of stone sleep. He found himself in a stone hewn room with one brazier flaming next to the far wall. Beside the brazier was a sword.

A scream echoed from some place unknown. Eagle spun around. A cavern led off out of this room. Eagle turned back to the brazier. He found a torch behind it, and lit it in the brazier. He took the sword in one paw. Hanging from the sword was a small key.

The scream came again. Female -- in terror.

Eagle, turned, and carefully paced down the corridor in the direction of the sound.

The screams came again and again, each time differently. As Eagle moved on, he could hear chains, yelling, raucous laughter, and the sound of laser fire.

He beheld an astonishing sight. A Demona made of stone stood with a laser weapon in hand, blasting holes in humans chain on one stone wall. She was laughing and cursing the humans.

Another figure approached Demona from behind as Eagle watched. The second figure, and human woman draped in a dark cloak, raised a mace to strike at Demona. Eagle cried out, but it was too late. The mace hit Demona, and shattered the stone inside her.

Somehow this didn't make any sense to Eagle, but it did not matter now. Eagle charged forward, intent on killing this human. He took her wrist forcefully. Surprised, she spun around.

It was Tigris.

"Tigris! You... you're human!" Eagle exclaimed.

"Eagle! Isn't it wonderful? Now you can turn back into a human, and we can be together!"

"What?!! Turn back...? This is what I am! I would DIE if I were human again!"

"But please, Eagle..."

"Why did you kill Demona?" Eagle demanded, referring to the stone shards on the floor.

"She was killing my kind!"

"YOUR KIND! You **belong** with us! Let the humans perish!" Eagle exclaimed, waving the sword in the air with gestures.

"What has happened to you? You **were** human? Why can't you act like one?"

"GRARRRRRRRRRR! I'M NOT A HUMAN ANYMORE! HE WAS WEAK, CHILDISH, AND STUPID! I have grown beyond being human! You were there when Cassandra banished me from humanity!"

"You're being a fool..."

The illusion suddenly changed. Demona and Tigris stood on either side of Eagle. All their eyes were in rage. Eagle held the sword steady in his grip. Demona snarled at Tigris, and she growled back.

"Come Eagle! Let us slay her depart together!" Tigris said.

"You are a traitor, Eagle. You have no place among us!" Demona snapped back. "Unless you will break your love and kill her, I will kill you for being the human traitor you are."

"He'll have a fine time trying." Tigris snarled.

It was an illusion! Eagle knew he had to do something. Tigris had appeared as a human, he quickly reckoned - Demona had not. Eagle turned to Tigris, ready to bring his sword down on her head.

Suddenly the form of Demona shimmered and switched positions. She watched, a maliciously satisfied look on her face. "Yes, Eagle. Kill her." she hissed. Eagle stared at the Demona then stopped his downward swing. Swiftly, he turned and buried the sword into her flesh. She screamed, hands clutching at the cold steel. "Eagle..."

From behind him, Tigris began to laugh. Eagle turned and watched her; her form began to slowly expand growing larger then fell into itself her mocking laughter getting louder and louder. He turned back to the Demona. She had crumpled to the floor her bright red blood pooling under her body. 

"What have I done?" he asked himself. Horrified he dropped the sword.

"Is this the extent of your love, Eagle? Is this how you see yourself?" Tears blurring his vision, Eagle turned slowly in the direction that the voice was coming from. Demona just as alive and vibrant as ever stood, wings caped around her form, behind and slightly above him. Her face reflected her sorrow of his decision. "I can not say that I am disappointed; nor can I say that I am pleased."

"Demona...!" Eagle tried to move toward her but she stopped him by raising her hand. "Do not." she said softly. "I see now, what I should have seen when I first meet you. Eagle. Matthew. You may be a gargoyle in form, but you are human in soul. You can not change what you were born as."

Eagle shook his head. "No, you're wrong. I AM a gargoyle! I have a gargoyle's soul!"

Demona smiled sadly. "You come from the flesh of a human woman-"

"She was a gargoyle! Inside, in her heart, in her soul she was a gargoyle!!!"

There was a flash of light. Cearda appeared out of the darkness, but a Cearda that Eagle had never seen before. This Cearda was ethereal, supremely beautiful. The gold jewel which was embedded into her collar flashed; the silver glowed. "My Queen." she said, greeting Demona. Next to this Cearda, this queenly Cearda, it seemed that Demona should be bowing at her feet. Eagle felt his knees go weak; slowly he sank to the floor. "Cearda?"

She didn't seem to hear him, turned to Demona. "How did the test go?" she asked.

Demona frowned. "He failed. 'Tis best just to leave him here."

Cearda glanced at Eagle; her form began to glow like fire. "He's young." she decreed. "He'll learn."

Demona snorted in distress. "But will he learn in time?"

Cearda shook her head. "I do not know. I... I can not see that far."

"What of his relation to Tutela?" Demona asked suddenly.

Cearda fell silent. She knew of Demona's contempt for the shape-changed human. "I believe that perhaps Eagle's exposure to Malcora may have nullified that."

  
  


Eagle was running. He was in a rough-hewn cave of stone. Before he knew it, he was back in the ante chamber. "Tigris!" She lay broken and bloody against the wall in the same cave they had been in moments before.

"Tigris!" he was at her side in a heartbeat. "What happened?!"

Her eyes flickered open, "Eagle..."

"Aye, Tigris-"

He felt a light squeezing from the female in his arms. "Eagle.. Listen to me. His intent wasn't to kill me, but the child I carry.

Who was this person? Eagle was determined to kill him when he found him. How had she come to be pregnant? Last Eagle knew Tigris was dead!

"Eagle if you love me, you will..." she swallowed then choked, "take the child from my body."

Eagle looked down at her in shock. "You want me to kill you?!!!"

"Better me than the child. Please Eagle! Please!"

"Tigris! No! I can't-"

"YOU MUST!"

Either save the mother and kill the child or save the child and kill the mother. Tigris arched her back as a spasm passed through her body.

"Eagle! DO IT!"

"NO! I..."

"Please!"

"Tigris...oh Tigris....please forgive me!"

With tears of pain in his eyes, he watched Tigris twitch in pain. Heart heavy, he flared his talons, set them astride Tigris's swollen belly, and drew them gently across, leaving small trails of crimson behind them.

Tigris's eye rolled back in her head, as she cried out. With a careful hand, he parted the flesh, and drew forth the pristine egg now splattered with it's mother's blood.

  
  


  
  


The dream had ended. Cearda's eyes twinkled with amusement. Demona and her wing companion seemed to be smiling at each other in a self-satisfied way. "This little battle wasn't to decide if you were loyal or not Youngling. It was simply a small skirmish to test your worthiness to fly at MY shoulder. Nothing more. Besides, you ought to remember your own vow."

Eagle looked at her uneasily, "Cassandra bound me never to take human form ever again, because with her spell she removed all trace of humankind from my blood." he gritted, holding his chin up. Cearda smiled.

"I thought so." she removed her foot and stepped back. "You do well to remember that, Youngling." she said lightly.

"Well if you two are finished." said Demona who had watched the whole exchange with amusement. "I think maybe it is time to change Eagle's name, don't you Cearda?"

Cearda gave Eagle an assessing look. "Indeed. Perhaps Iolair."

Demona nodded, smiling. "Sounds good. What do you think Eagle?"

"Whatever pleases you, my Queen." he said softly, trying to be respectful. "What does it mean?"

Demona laughed. "It means, my young friend, eagle in gaelic."

Eagle slowly picked himself off the floor and glared at the brightly colored Cearda. She ignored him. "You saved the life of a gargoyle even at the expense of the thing you love most in this world."

"Tigris." he concluded. "How can you be so cruel as to dredge up the ghost of my dead sis..."

"No, she's not dead. But that is for another day." Cearda interrupted. "Kneel before me."

Eagle looked over at Demona, and she nodded in approval. Turning to Cearda, Eagle knelt.

Cearda brandished her halberd again, and Eagle felt a twinge of anxiety. She was a fearful character with that weapon! There was a tingle of energy at it's tip, as Cearda brought it down - gently this time - on Eagle's left shoulder, and then his right.

"I dub thee Iolair, of Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir."

  
  


Demona screamed. Not in fright but in exultation. "We're home!" 

Cearda snapped her wings open shooting away into the darkness. Iolair was slower in opening his spread. At first the sensation of falling had thrown him off. Then Demona's scream. But now that he knew that everything was alright, he opened his wings and soared after Demona. Her face was split with the largest silliest smile he'd ever seen.

"Where are we?"

"We're in the Truif mountains. Once we sail over that ridge, you'll see our valley."

"You have a whole valley?!"

She laughed but said nothing else.

Cearda was but a bright spot on the horizon dipping and dodging in the evening sky. Iolair saw the stranger first. He wondered if he should say anything when the stranger suddenly closed his wings and dove.

"CEARDA!" he screamed. But he knew that he was too far away to be heard.

The stranger captured Cearda around her waist. She instantly closed her wings and allowed herself to be dragged down. Iolair watched the couple, glanced at Demona who didn't seem concerned, and kept his peace.

Cearda and her 'mate' fell quickly then pushed away from each other.

Both caught separate updrafts then soared one on top of the other. 

"Who is that?" he asked finally.

"His name is Krieger. He's Cearda's mate."

Iolair's jaw dropped. "Mate? But I thought..."

"What she was unmated?" Demona laughed amused. "No, she has a mate. He's very young and immature but he has promise. And he's completely devoted to her; as she is to him." she shook her head a bit puzzled.

"They... love... each other. Truly love each other. I've never seen a pair-bond like it before."

She shook herself out of her revere. She pointed, "There! There's the clan!" Gargoyles of every imaginable shape and size and color appeared from caves, rocks and outcroppings. They cheered and waved.

Iolair braked in the air, slipping behind Demona in a protected maneuver. He didn't want to be mobbed again. Demona came down for a light landing. Her clan instantly surrounded her.

Words of exclamation and questions of her well being filled the air. She answered every question, touched anyone who wanted to be touched, and greeted everyone personally. Just as she was finishing up, Cearda and Krieger appeared and the whole process repeated itself.

Now that she was reunited with her mate, Cearda glowed. Her arms were wound around his waist. Krieger, Iolair quickly realized was not a **small** gargoyle. It wasn't just that he was tall but he was massive. A muscle bound cretin was his first impression, but Krieger was too light on his feet. 

At almost seven feet tall, Krieger exuded prescience. It was amazing that Cearda wasn't swallowed up by him but she had her own presence which was greater than Krieger's. Cearda's young mate took after her at least physically in the fact that he had a very unusual color Gold. Not sparkly gold but yellowed bone gold. Iolair had never seen a gold gargoyle before. Then again he'd never seen a red-gold gargoyle before Cearda either.

Krieger's most intriguing feature though were his wings. They folded. Completely folded and rested against his back. Iolair had never seen wings like that either. Cearda nuzzled her face into Krieger's long black hair, becoming lost in it.

Demona watched the couple then held out her arms for silence. The clan quickly obeyed. "My faithful! We have returned; our sabbatical successful! We return to you rested, refreshed, and whole. We bring Iolair to the clan. Iolair has proven himself trustworthy and loyal. He has also proven himself worthy to fly on Cearda's left side. Welcome him."

Slowly the clan turned to study the newest member of Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir.

"Hi." blurted Iolair, embarrassed.

"Greetings." answered a young female. She looked Iolair over then held out her hand. "I am Char."

Iolair gladly took her hand. He could feel the other gargoyle's eyes on him, but tried not to let it phase him.

Demona noticed Char. "Youngling, would you see to Iolair's integration into the clan? Show him the ropes?"

"I would be honored, My Queen."

  
  


Char showed him the rookery, a cave with such a narrow mouth that he had trouble entering. But once inside he gasped. All around him laying on the floor were gargoyle eggs.

"Wow!"

"They are the future of the clan." said Char softly.

"When will they hatch?"

"Soon. Come, I am sure Demona will want to have a big hunt to celebrate her return. You really have to meet Bogamil."

"Bogamil?" He followed her out of the cave.

She spread her wings, took a running start and was flung into the sky. "Come on Iolair!" she urged. He copied her movement and soon found himself gliding on a tremendous updraft. Char lead him to away to the east. When she signaled for him to land he waited till she was down before joining her.

"Where are we?" he asked confused.

"Bogamil's cave. Come quietly." she stressed.

Carefully, she clamored inside, caped her wings and looked around. The sound of water dripping, the howl of the wind, and a deep thrum were the only greeting they got.

"BOGAMIL!" yelled Char. "Bogamil! Where are you? It's me, Char!"

The thrumming stopped, then: "Char?" 

A deep huffing sound. "And a stranger. Does this mean Demona has returned?"

Char motioned to Iolair to follow her. "Yes. I brought the New One to meet you."

There was a scraping sound then the clatter of falling rocks. "Good, I like company. Have you told him about me?"

"No, not yet." she answered. Grinning she turned to a very bewildered Iolair. "Iolair, I am pleased to present you to Bogamil the Red Dragon of Isht."

Eyes wide, Iolair turned and saw from around an outcropping of rocks a red head. A horse's head. A chestnut horse with a lightening jag of a blaze down his face. The horse snorted then came out from behind the rock.

"Helloa! I am Bogamil."

"I thought you were a dragon?"

The stallion tossed his head amused. "I am. Come look into the pool."

Iolair followed the horse to a shallow pool and looked at the reflected images. One his own and the other... A large towering red dragon with a lightening jag down his face.

Iolair looked at the horse then back at the dragon in the pool.

"I don't wear the dragon shape all the time." said Bogamil.

"Sometimes I am an eagle, sometimes a red dog, sometimes I wear the man shape."

The red stallion turned to Char, "Well if Demona's back she'll want to celebrate. Would it be too much to ask that you bring me back a scrap of food?"

Char rolled her eyes, "Bogamil, you know you don't even need ask!"

"Well the last ones to beg my protection were very forgetful. I finally had to eat them. It never hurts to ask. So, it doesn't have to be anything choice just a little meat is all I ask."

Char gave him an exasperated look. "You know Demona personally will bring you back a whole cow, Bogamil!"

The red stallion tossed Iolair an amused look. "I like to pull her tail." he confided. 

"Welcome to the clan Iolair, welcome."

  
  


The remainder of the evening was anything but dull. He met many gargoyles, from different lands, with different stories to tell. Char showed him their demesne. However, she lost track of Iolair as morning neared. The first lights of day were already in the sky when she found him.

He was seated on a rock, facing the direction of the rising sun. His head was in his hands, which rested on his knees. He had a quiet, thoughtful look on his face.

"There you are."

"A pleasant morning to you, sister." He smiled, as he turned to greet her.

"Why so thoughtful?"

He turned back to the approaching dawn. "I apologize if I seem to be distracted. I was recently reminded of someone I lost several years ago... someone who was... very dear to me."

"I'm sorry."

Iolair shrugged, and was quiet.

  
  


  
  


Cearda whirled around quickly, the feathers on her wings all abristle.

"You're not listening to what I am trying to tell you! We can't just do this! Think of the clan! What will we do if your plan fails?! We don't have another leader!"

"You will lead after me." came the calm reply. Cearda snarled her tail trashed left and right. "I couldn't! I won't!"

"You will. It's what I've been grooming you for, all these years."

Cearda let her wings fold against her back. "Ok...ok. So I'll lead. What should I do? If you're dead, and the Black God has decided to pursue us, and the world is blanketed in an eternal night what should I do?"

Her antagonist cocked his head then said sheepishly, "I don't know." he groaned suddenly.

"Gods Cearda! Can we rest now? I am getting tired of playing Demona for you!"

Cearda unfurled her wings. "Ok, sure." she said sourly. She stomped over to Krieger and collapsed by his side hissing softly. "I can't believe this! You want me to stand up to her! Her! I've never done such a thing! That I trust her to do what's right for the clan; to put the clan before everything else is understood! I don't really believe that she's going to do this."

Kreiger reached out, picked Cearda up and drew her into his arms. He kissed her pale cream colored hair and smiled. "I know you don't. But actions speak louder than words my love. She knows where the mountain is now. She will go there and maybe endanger all of us. I know she endangers the next generation. It would really be a great tragedy if we lost the eggs now."

Cearda leaned back against Kreiger's chest. "I know..." she said softly. "I fear. I fear that if I do this... she will lose respect for me. That she will think I've turned against her. That I'll be banished. I've seen her kill for less."

Kreiger's wings came around her. "We will talk to her tomorrow night. We must. She must think this thing through carefully. She must not be allowed to release the Black God without knowing the full extent of his power!" He raised a lock of her hair; pressed a kiss to the area just under her ear.

"Talking about power..." he murmured.

  
  


  
  


Iolair could sense something was wrong the moment he awoke.

The sun had set below the mountains, and Iolair suddenly roared. Char snarled beside him, almost in echo. Iolair was sprawled out where he had been tossed down, and scratched the back of his neck with his talons. They were in the rookery, where the sun had ended their work of turning eggs the previous night.

Char nodded. "Cearda wants to see you."

Iolair nodded. "Was there anything else?"

Char was about to say something, but when she realized she had forgotten what, she made a motion of brushing him away with her paw. Ioliar bowed with a sweep of his wings, and turned. He was about to leave, but stopped before leaving the rookery. He turned one pristine egg over, then left.

Char hid her grin behind her paw.

  
  


  
  


Having failed to find Cearda in her and Kreiger's domain, he went exploring down the familiar paths and passageways which Char had shown him. There was a lot of territory to cover, so what he could do by air, he did.

There was something odd in the air, and the teal gargoyle couldn't quite place it. On a particularly long stretch, Iolair touched down in a thicket as a fierce microburst blew overhead, rather than weather the freaky weather on the wing.

He found a small thicket of small white flowers. Portula or possibly Jasmine. With a mourning sense of loss, he selected a few of the flowers, and began to twine their stems together as the winds roared over head. He covered his head and his work with his wings, and braided a small crown out of the flowers.

He'd woven this pattern many times. In the freakish way the mind does, his thoughts suddenly recalled an old tune he had sung in his youth as he would play among ferns and flowers with Tigris at his side.

Oh ever joyful

our days may be

and all the starlight

we may see

take all view before thee

and the days grown darker

into night.

Iolair's slight smile faded, and the contemplation left him. Moments like this made him consider why on earth he was doing this. Why did he choose to serve such a difficult master? He had been placed in this place and time for a purpose, and he knew that it's fulfillment lay before him. It had cost him Tigris. What on earth could be so terribly important for him to be here?

Iolair would stay, he decided, because he belonged here. He had a mission to destroy the humans, and besides - a gargoyle does not just pick up and leave.

The winds had died down, and Iolair picked up his wreath of flowers as he took to the sky again, following his glide in the stiller air.

When he noticed Cearda and Kreiger inside the cleft of a nearby cleft, he panicked and attempted to place the wreath into his satchel. Cearda noticed him, and signaled, and Iolair came to rest before her. He bowed.

"You sent for me, milady?" he asked.

Cearda noticed the wreath of flowers half hanging from his satchel, and entertained several bemused thoughts. "We will be leading a special expedition into the mountains on a quest. You will follow."

Iolair bowed.

Kreiger smiled at Cearda, touched her chin once, and turned to go. He walked past Iolair, nodding, who, in turn, added a respectful "Milord..."

Cearda hardly spared Iolair a glance, as she trailed an updraft that Iolair had been following a moment before, to go off to the place to meet Demona for this small expedition to the dark mountain.

They were several minutes airborne before they encountered Demona. Cearda greeted Demona, and Iolair bowed. Demona turned to Iolair.

"Where is Char?"

Iolair was puzzled. "My queen?"

Demona carefully worded her reply, certain not to mention the words he did not need to hear. "She has... skills that I need on this journey. Bring her along."

Cearda and Iolair shared nervous glances, and took the air again, to return in the direction they had come. Demona returned to her book, carefully marking the phrase. The phrase that demanded one of her own kind in order to awaken her quarry.

The blood sacrifice.

  
  


Upon returning to the caves, one of the companions looked up in surprise before all the others. "Cearda! Back so soon? We were not expecting..."

"We forgot something." Cearda noted. "Where is Char?"

"You might ask Kreiger. He was looking for her."

Iolair was puzzled. What would Kreiger want with Char. For the moment both gargoyles shrugged it off.

The rookery doors were closed when they arrived, and the eggs were perfectly sound. Why shouldn't they be, Cearda reasoned.

"There." Iolair pointed out, referring to another passageway connecting to the rookery.

A high pitched scream filled the air.

Char's scream.

Iolair broke out into a run, following the voice. Cearda was behind him immediately, but had a strangely calm expression upon her beaked features.

"No! No stop! Leave me alone! Ah!" Came her cries. Iolair's eyes were enraged.

"Sister!" He exclaimed as her turned the last corner... Cearda found Iolair had not entered the room, only hung back in horror, one paw over his mouth, shaking in fear.

Cearda turned the corner herself.

Char burst from the room, and swung behind Iolair, holding his shoulders, crouching behind him in fear.

She was naked, and covered in the deep marks of claws that had been trying to hold her.

Cearda saw Char's tunic in the center of the chamber, torn apart. There, Krieger faced them, his loincloth on the floor, sweating, and Char's blood on his hands.

Char was trembling, and Krieger's eyes were radiant. "Keep him away from me..." she whispered in pleading.

Iolair snarled. "Don't tell me this has something to do with the continued protection of gargoyles..."

Cearda's eyes shuttered. "The blood sacrifice..." she murmured. Iolair looked over his shoulder and watched stupefied as Cearda reached out and grabbed Char's arms.

"Wait!! What are you doing?!" he demanded.

"Stay out of this youngling." Cearda said softly.

Char began to struggle.

"No!!" screamed Iolair. Then he turned toward Krieger, who was advancing on him swiftly. He never even saw the fist that smashed into his jaw.

Roaring in surprise and pain, Iolair was spun around and hit the floor of the cave with a thud.

"Iolair!" screamed Char.

Cearda pulled back on her arms. "Sleep young one....sleep." Char's struggles lessened then she went limp.

"I've got her. You grab him." said Cearda softly. She watched her mate, admiring the sleek lines of his physique. She knew exactly what he had been doing, or trying to do.

Krieger growled softly. "Are you sure that we're doing the right thing?"

Cearda shook her head and kept a tight hold on Char. "No. But as long as the eggs are safe... the clan... us... do we really have a choice? Are we not the two most loyal followers Demona has?"

He gave a very disparaging snort then bent and flung the unconscious form of Iolair over his shoulders **again**.

"I am just afraid...that's all. "

Cearda followed him out of the rookery. "Me too."

  
  


Iolair woke with a splitting head ache. He tried to rise and found himself bound. He gasped and began to look around. He was chained to a rock. Before him was a crudely constructed alter and lying upon it still naked yet peaceful was... "CHAR!!!"

"Ah...the sleeper has awakened." said a smooth silky voice.

A voice he knew all too well. He turned the best that he could and saw.

"Demona! What is the meaning of all this?!"

The red maned gargoyle gave him an insipid smile. "What this?" she passed a hand over Char's lax form. " 'tis but a blood offering to the Black God, that's all."

"Black God? What...what's going on!"

Cearda, halberd in hand, came forward. "Demona is to summon the Black God Chernobog. Father of all gargoyles. It is her belief that Chernobog will grant us the right to take over this world and be masters of it once more - slaying all our enemies."

Iolair stared at Cearda wildly. "And you would use her blood to do so?!" Cearda didn't even spare Char a glance. "She's young... we need the blood of a young gargoyle, and the pure soul of a righteous gargoyle." They turned and looked straight at Iolair. "You're soul."

Iolair gasped and shrank back. "Then that's why you brought me here. That's why I went through all the testing... I thought you really cared for me!!!"

Demona moved forward and reached out to touch him.

"We do, Iolair...we do. In your selfless sacrifice to Chernobog we will show you exactly how much we care." 

Cearda's air of confidence shimmered a bit. She glanced at her mate. He seemed upset. Demona looked down at Iolair a few moments more then smiling went back to her place at the alter.

"Demona! Don't do this!!" Iolair screamed.

"It's not up to you, Youngling. This is our destiny!! You wanted to help us destroy humanity - NOW is your chance!"

She opened her spellbook, took a long wickedly curved blade, and began to chat.

The words of the spell meant nothing to Iolair; he couldn't make out the language. But Demona didn't seem to have any trouble with them. As she read, Cearda and Krieger made the correct responses at the correct times.

From the ring of stone around them flickers of black flame exploded into existence. 

"Undi Kerkorot Sumtee Ergrok." Demona implored.

She put the book down and spread out her arms. "To the God of Darkness we give unto you this sacrifice. Take of it and nourish yourself. We beg thee to return to us! Return to your children!"

The black flames roared emitting a stale black smoke. The smoke instead of floating upwards sank down. It slithered along the ground then wrapped itself around the three participants of the rite.

The wind howled yet it did not disturb the smoke. The wall of smoke and flames rose higher and higher till Iolair could see nothing else. There was a scream in the darkness.

"DEMONA!!!"

"Cearda! Stop!"

"NOOOOOOO!"

There was a flash of black light then everything went away. Iolair looked away then squinted back to the place where the rite had taken place.

There was the alter, empty now. There was Cearda hunting desperately for something. And there was Krieger trying to hold her back so frantic was she in her search.

Of Demona...there was no trace.

  
  


Demona knew only two things. One she wasn't dead. Two, she didn't know exactly where she was. She tried to push herself up, for she was lying on her stomach on cool stones. She wasn't really strong enough and a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over her. She took a sniff of the air. Stale and full of sulfur; the smell of rotten eggs. She gagged.

Then she heard the rumbling. A loud long rumbling sigh. Then the sound of tree branches being broken, a slurping sound, a sucking sound. She looked up. Her nocturnal eyes able to make out a form in the darkness.

A massive black shape that moved.

It turned...Demona gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. It was He. Chernobog, the Black God. Never in her life had she seen such evil personified. Never!

Chernobog rose something to his mouth and bit down. Nausea like she had never known before grabbed her. She began to heave but there was nothing in her stomach. She tried to look away but was unsuccessful.

He was eating Char...

  
  


Kreiger grabbed Cearda's arms and spun her around to face him. "Cearda! Cearda! Stop it!"

Cearda tired to battle her way free. "I've got to find her! I just have too!"

"We will!!" said Krieger. "We'll find her! We-"

"You're in trouble that's what." said Iolair. "Trouble and there's only one way to get help."

Krieger turned on the chained gargoyle in a rage, eyes lit.

"Shut up! I know that! And the first thing to do is..." he reached out, took the chains in his hands, then snapped the links. "Free you."

Iolair rubbed at his wrists and looked at the gold gargoyle in suspicion.

"What about your **wonderful** dreams of conquering Char?" he sneered.

Cearda's hands worked on the shaft of her halberd. "They weren't his dreams. Demona... she knew that! And now she's gone! Iolair... help us... please!" Iolair took in the turmoiled face of she who he thought was his equal and knew in his soul that he was far far better than she.

"I'll help you any way I can." he said finally. "What kind of spell did you use?"

Cearda let out a small gasp of surprise. Her eyes lit with pleasure and new resolve. If he would have let her, she would have hugged him. She bent and picked up Demona's spell book. "It's in here." she said handing it to him.

Krieger went to his mate's side and stood beside her; his wing curled around her. Iolair opened the book and began to look a the text. "Strange... I've never seen this language before. Did humans write this?" Cearda shook her head. "No. For the tales we were told, it was written by gargoyles."

Iolair looked at her, "Are you serious?! That's not possible! Gargoyles do not write!"

"I know. But that's what we were told. That this book is in the Mother tongue. The language all of us should know. I'd never heard it before. Demona, though, was able to pick it up quite easily."

Iolair screwed up his face in concentration and tried to make sense of the words on the pages.

"Well looks like I showed up right in time." said a jolly voice.

Instantly Cearda came out of her depression. Krieger went instantly into battle readiness.

Iolair threw the book down and turned toward the threat.

The "threat" slowly came around the last of the rocks and into full view. A small wizened old man with rosy cheeks and a jolly face came up the path. He was dressed in a green cloak. His leggings the finest Iolair had ever seen. He wore a small pack on his back and held in his right hand a staff of yew wood.

"Who are you?!" exclaimed Iolair.

The little man swept the pack off his back and then sat down on it. He crossed his legs non-pulsed by the sight of the gargoyles. "My name is Byela. I've come to help you." Cearda's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe the _arrogance_ of this little man. Besides that...how had he found them? 

"How did you know we were here?"

Byela took a pipe out of a pouch on his belt. He filled the bowl then lit it. He took a few puffs letting the smoke wreath around his head. "I saw the fires. I'd been waiting for the fires." he said softly. He shook out his leggings. "But that's not the important part. The most important part is you must trust me. If you don't your Queen will die."

Cearda, who had begun to calm down, suddenly flared her wings and began to hackle. "What do you know of Demona?" she demanded.

Byela smiled his enigmatic smile. "Enough."

Iolair seeing that if pushed any farther, Cearda was going to attack took up the line of questioning. "What do we have to do?"

Byela turned his blue eyes toward the younger gargoyle. "You have to trust me."

"HA!!" scoffed Cearda. "I wouldn't trust a human-"

The little man smiled then chuckled. "Who says I am human?" He looked at the gargoyle with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He then brushed his hair past his ears, revealing large, long, pointed ears.

Cearda's jaw dropped.

  
  


Trembling, Demona slowly climbed to her feet and stood tall in front of the Black God. He slurped the last remnants of his meal into his mouth.

"My Daughter." he rumbled. "You brought a gift and now you will ask for a boon, yes?"

Demona blinked. She stated to shake uncontrollably in the face of this evil. "My... my... Sire." she began. "I work for your release..."

Chernobog turned his luminescent eyes toward her. The large pupil-less orbs studied her. The wide blood smeared mouth quirked upwards and he began to smile.

"Do you?" he asked. The darkness that surrounded him shifted, enfolded him. He disappeared. Demona cast about wildly looking for him.

The shadows suddenly belched forth life. Chernobog wearing the form of the gargoyle. He had the large horns of a bull sprouting from his brow. His wings though dominated all. He was as black as the shadows that had birthed him.

He was also naked clothed only in dark secrets...

He walked forward slowly his white eyes shining.

"You brought the gift... and you brought yourself. As my summoner you must hold great knowledge of the outside world." He reached out and touched the underside of her breast.

She flinched but didn't move away.

His hand moved over her breast, covered it, his thumb brushing over the crest. "You will serve me well young one. Old though you may think you are, I am far...far older."

Paralyzed she could only watch as he drew her into his darkness; dragged her down into the blackness of his evil. In the end she embraced him with trembling arms.

  
  


"CEARDA?!!!"

"Don't blame her that you became involved with this!" Byela almost laughed. "I'm the one who got you into this."

"What...?" Iolair held his head in confusion. "I still don't see why I..."

"There's only two that could go, and the Black God would react totally different for me, leaving you." Cearda added, in explanation.

Iolair sighed, and took the bag over his shoulder. "There's something basically wrong with this agreement that I can't put a talon on." he sighed, looking suspiciously at Kreiger.

Stepping to the edge of the cleft, he hoisted the bag, and rose into the rising night sky, gliding toward the dark mountain in the distance.

Cearda and Byela watched him glide away. "Are you sure this is wise?" Cearda inquired.

"He has a weapon you shall never bear again, Cearda. He is naive."

  
  


  
  


On the edge of a realm of darkness, Iolair entered the caves, hugging the cord to the bag closer. His skin felt pricked and frozen by the feel of the air. He stepped inside, brushing the spiderwebs aside.

He entered a world of blackened stone. It was so **dark**, so **barren**. It was cold even for a gargoyle, but still he continued onward. The rock turned black, and Iolair released all he had to do now was find what he was looking for and leave!

Suddenly, he stopped. In this intense dark, his night eyes made out something small on the floor that had been warm not very long ago.

There was a small bead on the floor, not much larger than a rose petal. Char had used them to braid her hair...

  
  


Char was dead!

  
  


The realization was like a slap of cold ice to his emotions. Frightened, he tripped over a loose black stone. Gingerly, he picked it up and dropped it into his bag.

Iolair stepped down to pick up the bead, when suddenly it vanished from before him. Iolair looked up.

Before him was the most ominous shape of darkness he had ever seen. No light came from him, a living shadow. Iolair gasped, and began to back away.

A giant taloned hand caught him up into the air. "Oh, stop sniveling, you little coward. Stop shaking like a frightened little girl."

Iolair could not move in the strong grip, but instead turned to his magic to try and protect him, drawing on everything he had.

"Is this one of any use?"

"No, though others would convince me otherwise." said a familiar voice.

Iolair was startled. "Demona?"

All he could see was the black shape of the thing or things holding him.

"Then begone from here! The next time you step foot here you shall be my prisoner."

With that, Iolair was flung out away from the mountain.

  
  


When Kreiger saw the ball of fire streak away from the dark mountain, he thought that it was some sort of fire meant to kill them. However, when Iolair emerged from those flames, screaming in a high pitched voice, there was suddenly another need altogether.

Catch him, before he hits his head and addles his brains again!, Kreiger thought.

Kreiger caught him neatly, sliding across the stone cliff face about a ten yards. Iolair dizzily pushed him away, and threw the bag down, before collapsing to his knees. His teal skin was burnt black and flaking away, and he was shaking.

Kreiger laughed. "There now! That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Iolair just lay on the ground shivering, and did not reply. Cearda reached down, grabbed his shoulders, and looked at him - startled. Something was wrong - he was different, changed somehow. His hips were to large, his chest too round, his hair had turned from brown to blonde, and his teal skin looked more green than teal.

"GREAT STARS, IOLAIR! YOU'RE FEMALE!"

Iolair blinked, and touched her breasts with her paw. Her eyes widened, and that same paw searched the space between her legs. After a moment of realization, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted.

Kreiger saw, and nearly laughed. "Well! If that don't beat all!" he chuckled.

Cearda was not amused. "He let his guard down, and the Dark God has touched him. As if he hasn't been through enough..."

"I wouldn't worry about that right now." Byela noted. "Chernobog was merely twitching his whiskers. That boy is strong, he can handle even this for as long as it takes, but we must act now."

Cearda took up the sack, and retrieved the black stone Iolair had stolen. "His sacrifice seems to have been for a good cause. A perfect one."

Byela looked Cearda in the eye. "Now you must begin the spell."

Cearda looked suspicious, but took her halberd, touched it to the black stone, and furrowed her brows in concentration.

Kreiger looked from the once-more unconscious form of Iolair, back to the domain of the black god. This was only the beginning of this battle, he decided.

  
  


He turned back to Byela. "Hey old man!" he said. The Elder arched a brow at the impetuous gargoyle in inquiry. "Why did the Chernobog let Iolair go? I thought he needed his soul to escape the dark realms?" Byela shrugged. "Who knows how that Dark God's mind works?" he said puffing on his pipe.

Krieger crouched down next to Iolair and looked at him... no... now HER! He gave a soft snort of laughter. Well he hadn't been expecting this! Cearda, who had been murmuring her spell, now began chanting louder and louder - sweat breaking out on her brow. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. They shined blood red. She herself took on a faint blackish glow which extended from the stone. She raised her halberd then struck it against the stone. The stone gave one flash then silently split apart into multiple pieces. As it shattered a scream of multiple voices rent the air. Kreiger slapped his hands to his ears. Cearda fell to her knees gasping, braced on her halberd to keep from falling on her face.

Byela emptied his pipe, stood up and picked up one of the small stones. "Yes... these will do nicely." he smiled. "Well done m'lady." Cearda gave him a very insincere smile. Krieger took his hands away from his ears which were still ringing.

"Ok...we have two female gargoyles...an old **man**...a young virile male gargoyle...and a whole bunch of little black stones! So what do all of these ingredients make?" Byela slipped his pipe back into his pouch then smiled at Krieger.

"Trouble for Chernobog." he said. "Come all of you. I am prescribed from stepping on the land of Chernobog so you three must continue with this fight."

Cearda glared at the little old man. "The sun will rise soon! We'll be of no help to you." Beyla took out three long strands of leather from his pouch and proceeded to twine one black stone to each piece of leather. He tied a final knot in the leather to form a crude neckless. "Yes." he agreed, "the sun will rise, but you'll not sleep today. I can not afford it. Here take the neckless and for the first time in your life witness the power of the sungod!"

Cearda looked at the neckless suspiciously then slipped it over her head. Krieger practically grabbed the other two necklaces out of Byela's hands. He put one around Iolair's neck then gulping, he slipped the other over his head. He expected some sort of pain or something but nothing happened. He frowned and looked at Byela doubtfully. "Are you sure these things are going to work?"

Byela nodded. "They'll work. I can only hope that you're **night** eyes are adaptable to sunlight. Now all you have to do is get Chernobog to leave his prison. When he sees the light he'll be powerless and we can destroy him." he shrugged. "Then again he'll not be totally destroyed... there can not be light without darkness... nor darkness without light."

Cearda rolled her eyes and struggled to her feet. "Ok fine! We go to the mountain, somehow **bribe** this Dark God into following us into the sunlight, and....then what? AND! How do we get him to follow us to the surface?"

Byela hefted his pack, checked his boot lacings, and began to walk down the mountain path. "Don't worry. I'll help you. As for how do you get the Dark God's attention?" he spared the still unconscious Iolair a glance... "You use bait."

Krieger looked at Iolair then the **truth** slammed into him. His jaw dropped open.

"NO WAY!" he exclaimed. He gave his mate a lamenting look. "Do I have to carry her?"

Cearda glared alternating between the retreating Byela to the form of Iolair. Her jaw working as she ground her teeth in silent rage. She snapped her wings open, whirled away with her beloved halberd clutched in her hands. "Bring her!" she snarled. 'You better be as desirable as Byela thinks you are!' she thought. 'I also hope Demona is ok. Oh....Deathless....if I ever needed your strength it's now!'

  
  


"Do you want to know what my theory is?" Byela seemed to note, in an almost comical way that seemed totally outside of what they knew of him.

"No." Kreiger grunted. "But I have a feeling I'm about to hear it anyway." He shifted the weight of he unconscious gargoyle on his shoulders.

"I suspect Chernobog has himself occupied with something for the moment that made him forget how much he wanted out for just a moment. I imagine he will remember once her grows bored again."

Cearda scowled. "If it's Demona or Char he's entertaining himself with..." she made a fist.

"Char's dead." a voice whispered.

Kreiger dropped Iolair, who winced as she struggled to bring herself into consciousness.

"What?" Cearda asked.

"The dark god consumed her." Iolair shivered.

Byela stopped walking, and returned to where they had thrown the other down. He looked up to the sky. "We might as well wait here for the sun to rise."

Iolair tried to rub the blackness off his hands, but only succeeded in peeling his skin away. Frustrated, Kreiger picked Iolair up by the shoulders, and tossed her into a pool of water by the wayside. It was deep enough to immerse parts of her, and she used the muddy water to clean herself off. The skin fell away. When quite satisfied, Iolair stood up and returned toward their group. The leather loincloth he had worn before the only article of clothing that had survived, and she was topless.

Cearda fumed off.

"Where are you going?" Kreiger called after her.

"To kill something to dress her in. She deserves that much at least." she returned angrily, and continued away.

Iolair had not paid any attention to this exchange. She was standing by Byela and she were watching the east, as the sun was touching the tops of the mountains.

Kreiger looked at it with eyes wide. Iolair seemed to be awed the scene just as much as he.

"Haven't you seen the sun before?"

"Yes." she replied. "But not with these eyes."

Kreiger touched the gargoyle on the arm. She flinched away from his touch like hot coals. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Stay away from me."

"I do not mean you any harm, Iolair."

"And Char? Am I to be your next blood sacrifice?" she mocked him.

"I was only trying..."

"Ritual murder, ritual rape, ritual suicide, EVERYTHING IS ACCEPTABLE IN THIS BLASTED CLAN OF YOURS, ISN'T IT?!!!"

"I meant nothing of the sort!"

Iolair pointed a talon at him. "You are nothing but lust given form!" she accused. Hastily she turned about, as if ready to make a hasty retreat, but she found herself face to face with Cearda. Both were startled at her sudden reappearance. Cearda appeared about ready to strangle Iolair, but Byela turned Cearda and Kreiger aside.

"Enough childplay, both of you."

Iolair moved on again, heading toward the darklands.

The others followed. "A hundred years without a mate," Kreiger noted with sarcasm, "and he becomes a woman. A b..."

"SILENCE!" Cearda shouted at her mate. Ahead, where they could not see, Iolair scowled.

"Every woman has her own unique first day in heat. I ought to know." Byela observed, quickening the pace. "We need her, and I can't have you running her off."

"Demona is too important right now." Cearda affirmed.

"Very well, my love." Kreiger affirmed with a sigh.

  
  


The walk toward the cave took little time. Clueless as to what was about to happen, she waited until the group was once again reformed. When she was not expecting, Kreiger closed the shackles around Iolair's wrists.

She suddenly cried out in alarm. "Kreiger! Cearda!"

Iolair pulled against the shackles frantically. Cearda's jaw worked angrily. "I'm... sorry... Iolair... ...there was no other way."

Cearda and Kreiger holding her on each side, they forced her inside.

There was complete darkness within. The sense of evil was everywhere. Even Byela had not come this far, remaining outside. Iolair shivered, dreading a second encounter, remembering the dark god's threat to her.

The dark form was precisely where Cearda expected it to be. But, there was another beside it, a massive black frame with Demona's face...

Cearda nearly lost her concentration, but luckily held it. That was what had made Iolair loose his concentration. Keeping a grip on herself, she and Kreiger thrust Iolair down onto the floor before the dark god.

"CHERNOBOG!" she demanded. "We have brought what you craved. Speak with your children!"

A dark hand reached down, and took up the trembling gargoyle by her chains. The single talon spilt her clothes apart, which fell down to the ground beside Char's.

"Yes... very good."

Iolair screamed.

  
  


Through the link of the dark stones that she had retrieved, Iolair felt Cearda's disgust.

~Oh will you quit your whining!' she demanded.

Startled, Iolair quieted down for a heartbeat, looked at Cearda who stood in obedience to the Black God, and realized that she had spoken by telepathy.

~Cearda?

~Yes youngling. Apparently we can communicate this way. Now hush. There is much to do and not a lot of time. Be still.

Iolair gulped then turned her face back to Chernobog.

The Black God looked at the quivering form of Iolair pleased. "You have done very well my Daughter." he praised Cearda. Then shook Iolair who began to whimper again.

"Sleep." Chernobog commanded.

Iolair's eye lids grew heavy, her breathing deepened, then her head fell forward. Satisfied, Chernobog laid her down on the dark stone floor. "Such innocence. Such purity." he grunted. "I will harvest your soul later."

He turned his attention to Cearda and Krieger.

"My children. You do well to help your **Sire**."

He placed an outstretched hand over Cearda's head, preparing to pick her up.

At her throat, the Stone of Long Life flared with golden light. It illuminated Cearda making the red-gold gargoyle look like living flame. It struck out at the darkness that was Chernobog. He jerked his hand away hissing in displeasure.

"So...mystic." he let the word fall from his mouth like a curse. "You don't **need** me or my power."

Cearda clutched a hand over the Stone, damping it's rebellious flare. "It was a gift, Great One. From another of your Daughters. It...it...holds great sentimental value for me."

Chernobog scowled, "It also holds great power."

The large opaque eyes turned from her to Krieger. The younger male flinched, his wings trembled slightly with his suppressed terror. With a snarl of spite, the Dark God reached out to pluck the young gargoyle up.

"DO NOT!" shouted Cearda. She sprang into action, twirling her halberd around and bringing it down onto Chernobog's wrist. If the halberd had not been a magical blade, Chernobog probably wouldn't have felt it, but as it was he grunted in pain as the halberd sank easily into his wrist. It slid out just as easily when Chernobog jerked his hand away.

He glared at Cearda who realized the import of what she had just done. She felt fear claw at her throat. Then she swallowed, brought her chin up, and gave the Dark God a flat glare. "I told you; Do not touch him." Chernobog's face gave away nothing. He sat back bringing his huge tail around to curl around his waist.

For the first time, with the light from the Stone, Cearda was able to clearly see Chernobog. He was indeed a Black... gargoyle. He looked exactly like a gargoyle! His eyes were arresting; capturing your attention. Drawing you in till you forgot where you were. From his brow sprouted horns, like a bull. A huge, impossible rack that stretched out then curved inwards and up. He wore nothing but shadows and in those shadows, rising and falling with his every breath, were a span of wings that were so immense that he could wrap his whole body away in them. She could see nothing else; the shadows were too dark.

Chernobog's tail twitched. "What else have you brought to me as Tribute?" Cearda lowered her halberd then realized exactly how stupid it was to expect an attack from him. He could easily kill her if he wished. But she knew that it would be a costly victory for him.

"We could not bring much of anything, Father. But below, on a mountain side, there is the rest of the clan. Mayhaps they will satisfy you." The Black gargoyle's tail twitched,

"I will need their combined life-force to truly escape this pit." He looked around then rose up. "Very well. Since you three are blood and bone, I can assume that it is still nightfall outside. I will go."

Cearda bowed her head to him in a show of deference.

~Cearda...

The red-gold gargoyle looked up startled. She looked at the large shadowed body with Demona's face.

~My Queen?

~Cearda...' The voice, Demona's voice, sounded faint and on the edge of hysteria.

~Help me. I....I...'

~We are, my Queen. Have faith. We will free you.' Demona's emotions roiled from blind panic to gut wrenching despair.

~I was a fool. A fool. Please Cearda...help me.'

~I have always trusted in you Demona. Trust in me now.' She turned away and started toward the tunnel, Krieger at her heels. As she started down the tunnel she half turned, "My Lord, don't forget Iolair." she said 

Chernobog, glanced at the sleeping gargoyle, and picked her up as if it was an afterthought. "Go my Daughter. I'll follow. You, my Dearest" he looked at Demona, "Come with me."

Cearda scrambled up the stone pathway with Krieger pushing her. Upon reaching the top she turned slightly and helped him out. "I HATE IT IN THERE!" he said.

Quickly, she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Beloved! Don't worry! All will be well. Look!" She pointed at the sun. It was slowly being covered up by the moon.

"What sort of magic is that?!" he asked shocked and bewildered.

"Must be Beyla. Come, quickly! We must make room." And indeed they did! The stone shook, then exploded outwards. The two gargoyles took to the air. Forcing his head and shoulders through though the small opening, Chernobog made his first appearance into the free world in millennia.

He took in a great lungful of air then let it out again. "AHHHHH! Freedom! It has been too long!"

"And it will be much longer before you get free again!" called a voice.

Cearda angled over, slicing through the air then suddenly backwinged as she came face to face with the second largest gargoyle she thought she'd ever seen. But instead of being black it was white. Iridescently white, glowing white; an immense white star of a gargoyle.

She closed her wings and tumbled head over tail to a lower elevation. Krieger saw the white gargoyle and he too backwinged. "WHOA!" he shouted.

"Where the heck did that thing come from!?"

The white gargoyle or Byelanbog, as Cearda knew him to be, flared his wings to their fullest. "Come forth Brother! Come forth and face your jailer and warden!" Snarling, Chernobog forced the rest of his body through the small opening, taking to the air to battle the White God!

  
  


There was a titanic clash as two massive fronts, one brighter than noon-day sun, the other darkest than the deepest night, collided with colossal fury. The sounds of rage, fury, snarling, and anger reverberated underhill. The smell of blood was thick in the air.

Such were the conditions Demona witness upon leaving the cavern. Her thoughts tumbled about and fed upon themselves, as she watched in utter bafflement as the day and the night collided.

She could almost sense the moves Chernobog would make before he would make them... almost as if she were fighting the battle...

**Don't go with him!** Cearda's voice resounded in her mind.

**Wha... what?**

**You were starting to let your thoughts be possessed by him. Keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself, or else you will never be free!**

Demona tried not to think about Chernobog, but found her thoughts arrested in him... without mercy... utterly able to kill... a sleek warrior... evil given form...

**STOP!** Cearda commanded again.

She couldn't! Her thoughts were not her own!

A sudden, retching pain shot through her for a moment, as she and Cearda both saw and realized Chernobog was being driven back. Demona felt her body constricting inward against itself, tighter and tighter.

The fury of the battle heated still. Chernobog was thrown backwards by the heat of that last hit, leaving him on the ground. He sprung for the jugular, but was pounded by the force of this great white being, who seemed to be growing larger and larger...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Demona yelled in agony, as it became apparent that the dark god's power was failing, and Chernobog was shrinking.

Suddenly recovering, Chernobog realized he still held one weapon.

Cearda gasped, realizing what the dark god held. Chernobog held it between the two of them, like some sort of mighty talisman. It was teal colored...

"IOLAIR!" Kreiger shouted, but she was utterly asleep, oblivious to what was happening.

The white god did not withdraw, but held his place.

"Come no nearer, Byelanbog! If you value any of your puny servants or vessels, come no nearer, or I'll shatter this one!"

Byelanbog only smiled. "You won't do that. You need to get inside of her and take her, in order to escape fully your prison."

"Perhaps so," Chernobog took naked form of she-Iolair in one paw, placing the other one just above, as if ready to smash a fly. "...but how much pain can they stand?"

Byelanbog sneered. Without a moment's hesitation, Chernobog leapy above the crest of a rocky pass in the hills, and took to the wing, his prize in hand. Without a moment lost, Demona snarled, grabbed the stone face, and took to the air after him. Byelanbog watched them go for a moment. "Don't let him just get away!" Kreiger protested.

Byelanbog laughed. "What? You mean you care for the little hatchling, gargoyle?"

Kreiger's jaw worked.

"Come, my pets. Have faith. Chernobog shall not get far."

  
  


Cearda, seeing the indecision on her mates face, snarled. He gave two wingstrokes with her own impressive span and flew in an attack formation screaming battlecry to Krieger. She brandished her halberd, swung around and followed the quickly disappearing Demona.

Kreiger snarled, eyes lighting up with rage, and took off after her. Byelanbog spread his own wings wide. "Good luck my Childern!" he called. Then he looked up at the covered sun. "Soon Mother Moon. Soon we shall have revenge on all the evil that Chernobog has done to us."

  
  


Demona chased after Chernobog and knew that it was losing fight. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do when she caught up to him...she couldn't kill him. For to kill him would be to kill herself as well. Her eyes blazed red. She might not be able to kill him but that didn't stop her from killing HER! Screaming with rage she closed her wings and dived in a headlong rush!

  
  


Cearda watched as Demona's wings closed and she began to dive toward the unsuspecting Chernobog. The Black God's wings spread a shadow of death to the ground far below. Cearda had no idea what Demona was doing but her sharp eyes quickly were able to make out what Demona was targeting; Iolair! "NO!" Krieger, always a bit quicker than she, shot forward. Cearda closed her own wingspan to help him.

With only ten feet till she hit Iolair, Demona was captured by strong arms. She screamed again in outrage. Her wings sprang out in her startlement and confusion. She began to claw viciously at Krieger. The male gargoyle roared in pain, closed his wings and tumbled into Chernobog's broad back. Likewise, startled, the Black Gargoyle attempted to twist around to shake off the unwanted passengers. Cearda snapped her wings open with a mighty effort, braking in mid air, and took a swipe at Chernobog's closed hand. The hand that contained Iolair. The magical halberd sank deeply into the Black God's vein and artery. He screamed, reflexively opening his hand. Iolair slipped out and began to fall, still asleep. Cearda gave battlecry, closed her wingspan, and dove after her clanmate. She plucked the slumbering Iolair out of the air like an eagle that plays with it's catch. Then turned in mid-air and headed back toward Chernobog's dark prison.

On his back, the two struggling gargoyles, Demona and Krieger. And fleeing as quickly as her pitiful little wings could get her, Cearda with that soul he needed so badly. The Black God snarled and it was like thunder. Krieger, upon hearing that, let Demona got like she was a hot coal and scrambled to get off the Black gargoyle's back. He used all his strength to push Demona from himself, spread his wings to their fullest and was toss upwards by an obedient updraft. Demona snarled her outrage, spit some of her hair out of her mouth and would have followed if it wasn't for suddenly being thrown off of Chernobog's back when the Black God twisted in mid flight to chase his escaping prize.

Demona screamed, this time in terror as she was thrown off the Black God's back. She free fell a hundred feet before snapping her wings out to save herself. But even that wasn't enough as a rouge patch of wind conspired and slammed her against a sharp cliff face.

She died instantly.

Krieger, seeing his Queen smash her head in on hard granite, roared in a passion of despair! His eyes blazed white. Closing his wings he dived, much as Demona had but this time straight for Chernobog's exposed neck. He would kill the black god one way or the other. He never occured to him, that the Black God could kill him with a flick of his fingers. He drew his own magical claymore and struck! Chernobog was shocked to say in the least. He lost all concentration, rearing up in mid-flight, roaring in pain. The doublesided sword sank deeply into the flesh of his neck. Black blood welled up. Kreiger braced himself against the dark gargoyle's shoulders and pulled the claymore free. He was instantly and liberally sprayed with the black blood that hissed and ate away at his own flesh like acid. He screamed in mortal terror, lost his balance and began to fall. He didn't even feel it when his head struck an outcropping of stone. He fell onto a mountain's thin high spine, almost cut in two. The black blood still eating away at his flesh. But he was already dead by the blow to the head.

Cearda didn't see any of this. All she knew was that she had what Chernobog wanted more than anything. And she had to keep Iolair away from him. The Stone of Long Life blazed, illuminating Iolair in it's light. Her halberd began to glow. 

Iolair moaned softly then blinked.

~Iolair?" Cearda said urgently.

~Ce....ce...Cearda....I had the strangest dream." Iolair sleepily began to rub at her eyes, yawned then opened her eyes. Over Cearda's shoulder she saw Chernobog. She stifled a scream of terror; going stiff in Cearda's arms.

"It wasn't a Dream!"

Cearda closed her wings diving again in an erratic movement. Iolair wound her arms around Cearda's neck. "What?..."

"You're right! It's wasn't a dream! It was a nightmare! Can you fly?!"

Iolair nodded. Cearda then thought better of it. "You might be able too, but I think he'd be able to catch you. I think you should stay with me."

She opened her left wing and that sent her spinning out of control. Iolair screamed and tried desperately to get closer to Cearda. 

"Hopefully, this nightmare will turn back into a beautiful dream. IF I am able to get back to Byelanbog!"

Iolair dared to look out of the protective arms that held her. She saw the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. A gargoyle of purest white. Like a star had taken shape ...or the sun...no the heart of the sun! "A white gargoyle?"

Cearda nodded once, getting herself back into control. "Iolair! Look!"

She spread her wings and came in for a landing. Overweight and unbalanced by Iolair and the wild wind she stumbled and fell. Iolair was pitched forwards barely striking her head against a stone. Cearda almost impaled herself on her halberd; had the wind knocked out of her and struggled for breath. Iolair looked to where Cearda had been pointing and saw the moon slowly moving out of the path of the sun. Chernobog looked up also, saw what was happening and screamed in outrage. If the moon finished it's journey, then nothing would be between him and total annihilation!!!! 

  
  


Iolair was holding her head, and the paw that held it was a bit bloody. Cearda recovered quickly, and they quickly began to take in the situation. Bylanbog was nearby, looking over the scene. Demona was dead. It was then that Cearda saw Kreiger, laying dead atop the upper ridge of the mountain. Cearda, oblivious to all else, took to the air and raced to his side. Iolair, however, was watching Chernobog.

Chernobog screamed with outrage. He clutched his head, and his flight faltered. As the first rays of the sun touched the ground from behind the veil of the moon, Chernobog turned to stone. The dark god fought against it with all his strength, but suddenly was nothing more than a giant statue hanging a thousand feet up in the air.

The statue crashed to the earth, splitting apart. Byelanbog made a motion with his paws, and the pieces all turned to dust. "Back to prison with you, Chernobog."

  
  


  
  


Demona, dazed and confused, returned to consciousness from her state of immortal limbo. Demona blinked a few times, as she tried to clear her vision. She saw a teal colored female gargoyle looking down at her, with a bloodied cut on her scalp. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to straighten her thoughts out.

"How much do you remember?" she inquired.

"It's all... very confused."

"Your color has returned to normal -- a good sign I suppose."

"What happened, sister?"

"The dark god possessed your body, ate our clan member Char, and tried to possess me as well."

Demona winced. Was it possible she had allowed the death of a clan member? It was impossible! It had to be someone else's fault...

  
  


  
  


Cearda arrived to find a most unpleasant scene. Demona, recovered from death already, hoisted young Iolair up against a stone cliff face, snarling. Iolair's face was terrified, and there was evidence he had taken a lot of beating, and been unable to resist the fierceness of the attack.

"YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Demona accused him. She slashed at her again, and blood flew.

Cearda approached the scene. Demona paused to regard her second, as Cearda laid the body of Kreiger at Demona's feet. Releasing her captive, Iolair stumbled away from each of them, opened her torn wings, and found a convenient place in the forest below. She collapsed onto a stone ledge, lay down, and removed the amulet from around her neck. She turned to stone instantly.

  
  


Kreiger? Dead? Demona shook her head. It was impossible! That traitor! Iolair must die! With a snarl of outrage, she pushed past the mournful Cearda, to track down her quarry. She found Iolair, changed to stone, against a ledge. Demona reeled up a fist, preparing to smash the statue.

"DEMONA! DO NOT!"

Incredulously, Demona turned to stare at her Second. 

"What? You would save this one? why?!"

Cearda clutched a hand around the Stone of Long Life as she knelt by the side of her dead mate. "Would killing Iolair bring him back? Would killing one bring back Char?" 

Demona glared at the stone Iolair, terror on her face. Then at the almost serene Cearda. The contrast between the two was what stopped her.

She dropped her hand with a sickened whimper and fell to her knees. "What have I done? What have I done?"

Cearda, tears streaming down her face, said softly, "Taken the first steps toward healing. It was you Demona who wanted to find Chernobog. It was you who wanted to release him into the world of Man. It was you who gave him Sacrifice. It was you who lead Char to her death. It was you who brought us all to the brink of death."

Demona turned on her Second swiftly. "What do you mean **it was all my fault**?!"

Cearda looked at her; really looked at her. Her eyes locked onto Demona's own. "Wasn't it?"

Demona's face twisted into an enraged snarl then crumpled into sorrow, disbelief, and finally acceptance. Mournful sobs forced their way up her throat as she put her face into bloodstained hands and began to cry.

Cearda stroked and smoothed Krieger's wild mane. Straightened out his limbs and put him to **rest**. She remembered what had happened to the Gold Gargoyle of Byzantium when she killed herself. She wondered what would happen to Krieger if she took the stone off.

She needn't have worried about it. 

For the first time in her life she looked at the world as it was when the sun was in the sky. The colors were so bright and vibrant. Flowers that were closed at night, had opened and now showed off their petals

The air even smelled different. She took a deep breath of morning air then released it.

"It's a new... day." she said softly. "A new day and a new beginning for all of us."

"Indeed it is."

She looked up and saw the star white Byelanbog still in his gargoyle shape. He was **immense** as gargoyles went - but maybe **puny** as Gods went. She sniffled yet felt a lightness come to her spirit. She wondered how that could be since Krieger was dead and she should be in mourning.

"Byelanbog... now that Chernobog is returned to his prison what will you do?"

The star white gargoyle began to shrink, becoming smaller; a **regular** gargoyle's size. He lightly touched down on the stone mountain top and caped his shining wings.

"I will return to my celestial home." he said. His voice the sound of a thousand stars.

Cearda nodded and looked down at Krieger's mangled flesh.

She felt, on her shoulder, a touch as light as goose down. She looked up into the White God's shining gargoyle face. "My Lord?"

Byelanbog straightened, took his hand away. "For your help in capturing Chernobog I am willing to grant you a boon, my daughter."

Cearda blinked in surprise. "A boon?"

The starlit gargoyle nodded. "Anything your heart desires."

Cearda looked down at Krieger and felt a clenching of her heart. "Anything?" she whispered.

"Yes....."

She nodded faintly then spoke. "I know what I want my lord. But before I make my request I would ask you a question."

"Ask."

"Are gargoyles the children of the Dark or of the Light?"

Byelanbog was silent. Cearda looked up into his face wondering if he would answer her or not. "Gargoyles," he began slowly. "Are MY children."

Cearda swallowed nervously knowing that she must ask. "If we are of the light then why do we **live** only at night?"

Byelanbog slowly lowered himself to the ground sitting across from Cearda; separated from her by Krieger's body. "I created the gargoyle to protect man, his sibling. For the night is a very scary time for humans. I created gargoyles to protect Man from those things that he fears. From the things in the dark. From Chernobog's evil creations. 

"I wished that the humans would _protect_ the gargoyle during the day. And be thankful for their protection their strength, their commitment but it didn't work out that way.

"I realized that I had made a mistake. I have heard the cries of my children and have been slowly calling them home. Yet there are those who either can not hear me, or refuse to hear me. Your Demona is one of those."

Cearda spared Demona a quick look. The redmaned gargoyle was still crying; coming to terms with her hand in the destruction of her clan. "She can not see you?" she asked.

Byelanbog shook his head. "Sadly no. Only those who have been one with the Light can truly be saved."

Byelanbog rose from his sitting position and looked down at her. "So... I owe you boon. What is it you want?"

"Can you return _people_ from the dead?" she asked faintly.

Byela looked at the slain form of Krieger and slowly shook his head. "No... I can not. I can create life though. And I can hold him for you until that time you truly need him."

"W... will... he return to me?" she asked brokenly.

Byela made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. "Yes... he will return to you. One day. Alive hearty, and whole."

Cearda sobbed, pressing her face into Krieger's chest. Crying for what was lost to her. Slowly her tears subsided. She rose, her broken mate in her arms. "Then I ask you, take him. Heal him."

Byela nodded and took Krieger into his own arms. "I will do as you have asked. And I will continue to watch over you." he promised.

Cearda wiped away her tears with a clinched fist. "My love." She let out a small breath then stepped back. "I will do as you command me, My Lord."

Byela smiled. "You will do as you have been doing. Live!"

He spread his shining wings and began to rise in the air. "My Daughter!"

With a great flash of light he was gone, Krieger, the black stones of Chernobog's prison that kept the gargoyles flesh, and the whole nightmare with him.

A lone red bird fluttered down and perched on the stone gargoyle's shoulder. It looked at a second gargoyle on a ledge with torn wings and then a third gargoyle that was couched down weeping.

It cocked it's head, knowing the gargoyles for who they were but not understanding why they were on the mountain top.

It shrugged, opened it's mouth and began to sing in the clear morning air.

There was a long moment, as Cearda watched the bird. But then she turned, struggling with the colliding emotions in her heart, and laid down against the stoneface, to sleep until sunset. 

"Well, Cearda?" Iolair's voice inquired. 

Cearda looked up at her. She must have slept, as the sun had fallen now. "Well, Iolair? What will you do now?" she asked, referring to Demona's betrayal.

Iolair was puzzled. "Do? I've nothing else to do for now. My once-mate-to-be is dead. That, and I'm --" 

Cearda nodded. "Female." 

Iolair looked uncomfortable, and stood up again, anxiously. There was something he wasn't telling Cearda - she could tell. Iolair anxiously changed the subject. "I'll meet you back at council." 

"You are staying with us?" 

Iolair paused, but did not reply.

  
  


**Location: AVALON, 1998**

  
  


Lady Christyne, robed in her new white blouse with gold trim and her new sword, placed her hands on her hips and twitched her tail with annoyance. "You wanted to see me?"

The two gargoyles hanging in mid air in the middle of a guest suite suddenly came alive. "What is the meaning of all this humiliation?"

Lady Christyne leaned against the doorpost, enjoying Phantom's sense of humor. "I imagine someone didn't want to deal with you as soon as you demanded it."

"Do you have the power to let us down?"

Lady Christyne clapped her hands, and the two gargoyles collapsed onto the floor below. They recovered quickly, standing. Christyne draped her wings and closed the door behind her. "Now, once more. You wanted me?"

Before Christyne stood a very beautiful blue gargoyle with an enormous mass of red hair, dressed in loincloth, gold jewelry, and a crown. She was flanked by a very bright yellow and orange gargoyle with peach feathered wings.

"Do you know us?" the blue one inquired.

"Oh course, my queen. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Our quest has been long, now that we have learned you live again."

Christyne scowled, and walked up to this blue one. They faced one another for a few moments, until suddenly the blue gargoyle cried out, holding the sides of her head.

"You left me to die, your _highness_. To the mercy of the **humans** you so despised! I lost my life to them that day! I may have well have been shattered with the rest of my clan!"

"I was... trying to teach them... a lesson..." she retorted desperately.

"Oh, I'm sure they've learned, now that each of them occupy another plane of existence! You betrayer!"

"LEAVE OFF!" the sun-bright one demanded.

Christyne scowled at her. She was very modest looking, but Christyne could sense a hidden power in her. "Very well. I do not know you, and do not interfere in the coming battle."

Christyne twirled. "I have patrol duties to see to. You may stay here as long as you like. Just don't get in our way."

With that, Christyne vanished in an array of magic.

"It seems much has changed from what we knew of her." the blue one muttered as the other helped her to her feet.

"Yes, Cearda. Be patient. She will come around, eventually."

  
  


  
  


**Within Demona's realm...**

  
  


  
  


They came upon her upon the pathways through the woodland, glaring with high head at the three who happened to stumble across her. She was dressed in her skimpy leather loincloths, and bore a thin gold wire about her brow. A powerhouse of violent energy. She had liquid blue eyes.

"Well, my queen?" she asked, arms folded expectantly.

Demona stopped short. "Malcora!" she exclaimed with surprise.

Lady Christyne, resplendent in her salmon-pinkish gargoyle form, swung her wings before her with grace, bowing. "At your service. You wished to speak with me?"

"Speak with you? Since I learned you were alive, I've been waiting to see you! Why did you turn us away at Avalon?"

Christyne raised an eyebrow. "It was a battle I had to fight."

Cearda stepped forward. "Are you immortal?"

Christyne's attention turned to the sun-bright gargoyle. "Cearda, always a pleasure sister." she bowed again, "I am neither immortal, nor mortal. I live within time, but see beyond it."

"Are you yet mated, sister?" Cearda put in.

Christyne nodded. "I have walked among the humans and the fey for the last three hundred years, and I have taken a mate." she focused her attention on Demona. "My offspring will greatly enhance the clan. I have come to you, and you requested of me on Avalon."

"Be by my side once again, Malcora. As we did fighting the Hunter, long ago." Demona encouraged.

Christyne's stare was cold, direct into Demona's green eyes. "You allowed my clan to fall into the hands of the Hunter. You betrayed me to the humans. I have come to give you a message - and a warning."

"Give me your news?" Demona inquired.

"Your clan here is in danger." Christyne responded. "I foresaw the Kanmore man who hunts this clan. He has learned of it's location."

"Why do you give us this information?" Demona looked at Cearda.

"What should we do about him?" Cearda looked at Demona. Their looks were nervous ones.

Lady Christyne, slyly as a snake, turned her head to the quiet third member of their party. She did not reply to them immediately.

Iolair felt her heart seize up, gone cold.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lady Christyne pinched the flesh between Iolair's loincloths, on her chest. Lady Christyne seemed disappointed.

"Demona, don't you feed your underlings? If she ever came to term, she would die in travail." Lady Christyne accosted Demona. "She would have little strength in love making."

Demona scowled. "Iolair is not mated. Her mate died years ago."

Lady Christyne sighed. "Feed her more before she mates again."

Cearda wasn't sure if it were a laughable remark, or an offensive one.

Lady Christyne turned back to Demona and Cearda. "Your clan's future, especially it's rookery, is in grave danger. I can tell you that this Kanmore man is an alchemist, and is studying ways of hurting our kind with his chemicals rather than turning lead into gold. You will be forced to leave you caves your clan inhabits."

"NO!" Demona snarled. "We will **NOT** leave this place! It is all we have left, thanks to the hunter!"

"I have foreseen it." Lady Christyne's reply was simple and cold. "As for my motivation, you dare not question it." She looked sharply at the one with the red mane. "You betrayed me once, but it would not be honorable for me to return your disservice. I would remain more honorable than you."

Her words were harsh and bitter. 

"Heed my warnings or no, it does not concern me." She concluded. "The demands of my honor are fulfilled." With that, in a ball of flame, Iolair's eldest genetic sister vanished.

  
  


  
  


She-Iolair stayed by Cearda's left hand since the time of Kreiger's demise trying to be of some support to the one that had lost so much to save the clan from Demona's mistake. Iolair could not deny that Cearda had saved her life on many occasions during the battle and it's aftermath, and felt a debt of gratitude toward her new clanmate.

All night long, Cearda tried to occupy Iolair's mind. She introduced her to other members of the clan who told her about how Demona had appeared out of nowhere to join their clan. He learned that this clan used to live in Bren a small city in Switzerland. That the humans turned upon them and began to kill them. Demona returned after a year long banishment, rallied the clan, and advised them to flee. Now they lived here in the Truif mountains, safe from humans; guarded by the dragon. If it wasn't for Demona they would be dead and their children with them.

As the hour grew late, the sun threatened to make his appearance Cearda crouched close to Iolair. "What's wrong?"

Iolair tore the petals off a flower then tossed the remnants to the ground.

"I just don't agree with Demona's decision to send Bogamil."

"Why not?"

"The Hunter is a gargoyle problem! He should be handled by gargoyles!"

Cearda bit her lip and pondered her point. "Maybe... but Demona knows what she's doing. She's sending Bogamil because he's a shapechanger. He'll be able to go down in the shape of, say, a red dog, find out what the Hunter is up to, and return without being noticed."

Iolair whipped her wings closed. "I still think a gargoyle should have gone." he said.

  
  


"Cearda, I'm kinda concerned about Iolair."

Surprised the beaked gargoyle glanced at her leader, "Why?"

"She didn't seem very enthusiastic about my decision to send Bogamil last night."

"And when has that ever bothered you before?" snorted Cearda.

"Never," answered Demona, "But this time it's different. Iolair is a young gargoyle. He... she's liable to do something rash."

"Like what?"

"I-"

"All hail Demona! Queen of gargoyles!" called down a voice from above. The two gargoyles looked up and saw the Red Dragon is Isht, Bogamil. The large creature folded his wings then came down for a pin-point landing. 

"Halloa!" he greeted them.

Demona stepped forward. "Greetings Bogamil! Any news?"

The red dragon shook his head, his great mane falling into disarray. "Aye, I've news. Yes, the Hunter is down below in the village. He doesn't know that there are gargoyles in the mountains. You can thank the suspicious humans for that. They don't trust him. He should be gone soon without even a crumb to tell him anything. But I do think it would be best to stay away from that side of the mountain for a while."

Demona nodded. "Thank you Bogamil. Thank you very much."

"Good...good." said Bogamil. "Well I'll be going now. Have a little hunting to do." he spread his humongous wing span then turned and hurled himself into the night sky.

Demona turned away and looked at Cearda shrugging. "You're my right hand Cearda. It's up to you to tell the others about the Hunter and to stay away from the village. While Bogamil handles the hunter, you and Iolair scout the village for any other possible signs of trouble. The hunter may still be in the village."

Cearda saluted, "Right away my Queen."

  
  


They sailed low, by Iolair's lead, and soon came to rest at the edge of a small human village. Iolair stalked low, on all fours, around the back of the huts and home, looking for any sign of life. Cearda followed, nervous, expecting the hunter to suddenly leap out of the ground like a thing undead and skewer Iolair alive. She was relieved as this did not happen.

"Don't look so jittery." Iolair noted, looking over She shoulder at her, She tail swinging almost idly. "I'm not stupid enough to go looking for trouble."

Cearda brandished her halberd, folding her arms authoritatively. "We are not to spend a moment more here than is necessary."

Iolair blinked. "Very well then. Give me a moment, and we can return."

Iolair muttered again for a moment about gargoyles dealing with the hunter, as he looked around. Cearda straightened a moment, and watched her put her ears up to a building.

  
  


"Ah, but if you have monsters and other creatures in your mountains, then I am just the questor you need to rid you of such demons."

"There is a dragons living in a lake far in the mountains near here. He steals and eats cattle, a little at a time."

"Ah, then my task here among this tribe is clear."

"Whatever you want, but just get out of this village."

"Once I am done ridding you of this Demon, you will thank me."

"Whatever you want, stranger. Just remove yourself from this place."

  
  


Iolair suddenly stepped away from the wall, with an amazed look on her face. She stuck her paws in her mouth, and danced around in a funny way, twirling around with her tail trailing behind her. "Oooooh oh oh oh! This is too good!"

"What?"

"The hunter... a dragon in a lake... Bogamil... oh oh ooooh!"

"Iolair, make sense."

"The hunter is hunting a dragon in a lake in the mountains. If Bogamil would... oh oh ooooooh! We could set a trap for the hunter! All we need do is get the gargoyles..." He trailed off, turning back to bewildered Cearda. "But first, we must ask Demona."

Suddenly, there was the swoosh of a knife blade through the air. Iolair snapped under the brush, and scurried madly away. Cearda ran after. The cloaked figure behind them could not follow two dark gargoyles scurrying away on a moonless night. Yet, he ran after the sound, sword in hand. Cearda bounded after Iolair by foot, until she suddenly tripped over Iolair's leg, and Iolair pulled her quickly inside a small cave in the hillside. Iolair shushed her, and they sat quietly for a few moments until they heard footsteps run past the cave mouth, moving on past.

Iolair smiled, as her eyes picked her way through the cave. "My, now wasn't **that** fun?"

Cearda shook her head and followed. How does Demona put up with her? Bringing her halberd to the ready, Cearda searched for any sign of their attacker.

A sudden blast filled the chamber. Iolair dashed behind Cearda, back toward the cave entrance, but it was too late. Cearda was thrown backwards, deep into the cave. Iolair, realizing she was too late, flared her wings to ward off the falling rocks. However, she was overcome and buried.

Cearda heard her yelp, and heard a human laugh.

  
  


Bogamil watched the human return to the huts when the moon was low. The Hunter wore a smirk. Then, the Hunter fell into Bogamil's trap. Oh, Iolair's trap had been a good idea. Bogamil had suddenly realized a good way to expand on it.

The villagers, riled with anger, turned on the masked man, and began to throw stones at him. Bogamil smirked, changed into a red striped dog, and loped away into the night.

  
  


Cearda pulled the teal gargoyle from the mess with all her strength. Iolair groaned and stirred, rubbing the back of her head. "I'm alright... mostly."

"Good. I wasn't about to carry you anywhere after you got me into this." she replied, with a slight smile.

Iolair pushed herself onto all fours, shook the dust off herself, and moved her wings and tail, looking for anything broken. "Just bruised." Iolair reported.

"Takes a lick'n and keeps on tick'n." Ceada laughed. "Com'n, there's a passageway down this tunnel that I know of. I used to play down here before I was initiated to become a warrior in THIS clan."

"Ah." Iolair nodded. "Your old haunt."

"Something like that. How did you find it?"

"I saw it, hidden in the brush."

"Then the Hunter must have also. Uh oh." Cearda became suddenly concerned.

"What is it?" Iolair asked, her wings opened slightly.

"The left passage has been blocked. The right I know is a dead end."

"What are you saying?"

Cearda leaned against a wall, and slid down onto the floor. "We're trapped."

"Trapped my hind foot." Iolair chirped cheerfully, "Are we not 'One with the Stone?'"

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Cearda with a puzzled look on her face. "Who told you that?"

Iolair had the grace to look a little sheepish. "I've always believed that. I mean when you think about it, it should be true, right?"

Cearda shook her head. 

Iolair growled softly. "Ok, show me this other passage way."

Cearda pointed.

"Now watch. I'll show that I am right."

She sank her claws deeply into the stone then pulled. A hunk of rock fell away.

"See!" he crowed victorious.

"Ok, miss Conqueror of the Stone. What do we do when we get out? The hunter is still outside you know."

Iolair paused for a heartbeat, then said nonchalantly, "I know... don't worry about it. Everything's going to be fine."

Cearda rolled her eyes and squatted down on her heels.

  
  


Let the her throw rocks around. She would conserve her air supply.

  
  


Demona scanned the night sky anxiously. Out of the darkness came a pale flash of red; Bogamil.

"You didn't find her?" she asked.

Bogamil shook his head. "No, my Queen. She's nowhere to be found. There is a disturbance at the human's village."

Demona growled. "Curses!"

Bogamil reassured her. "We can trust Iolair. You have to remember. She's still young and prone to getting into situations like this. She'll be fine."

"She might get herself into trouble, but Cearda is with her."

Bogamil flicked a rock off his shoulder. "I know that. Trust her, my Queen. You might be surprised."

Demona gave Bogamil a narrow look. "You know where she is." she accused.

Nonplused Bogamil began to preen one of his wings. "Yes, I do."

"And why didn't you tell me!"

"If she's in trouble it's for her to get out of. Trust me."

That stopped Demona cold. She shut her mouth. It wasn't often that Bogamil asked her to trust her. Trust was an unspoken agreement between them, like it was between her and her second in command, Cearda. She gave him a long look then stiffly nodded. "Alright. But if she brings trouble to the Cearda or the clan..."

"The Hunter has been forced from the village. You've nothing to worry about." Bogamil added, for effect. "Of course we never would have been able to get rid of the Hunter if it wasn't for that new young one."

Demona's voice quavered, "Oh, really?"

Bogamil sat down; scratched at a flea. "Yes. You'll see what I mean when she returns. I best be going. The Hunter expects to find a dragon in the next valley so I mustn't disappoint him." he gave both gargoyles a dragon grin then trotted down the mountain path. "Wait and see."

The sun rose, and each of the gargoyles turned to stone.

  
  


  
  


The hunter, sore and angry, entered the Valley of the Crystal Lake. He'd show those miserable peasants what was really going on here. There was little to be seen in the valley, but he knew any dragon or gargoyle would be well hidden.

The sun had set by the time that he found the lake -- it was well hidden in the hills. The hunter drew his sword, and began his search. He spoke a few choice spells to draw his quarry to her.

For a moment, the hunter paused, thinking he'd heard something. All was silent, but he had that unmistakable feeling of someone breathing down his neck.

He turned.

The red dragon snapped at his quarry, and came away with a mouthful of cape. The Hunter slung his sword about, as Bogamil spat his cape out and came after her again.

All at once, the valley was filled with a thousand screams of angry gargoyles.

The hunter cursed. He'd been drawn into a trap!

The light blue gargoyle he'd been hunting all these years perched on a tree above he advancing gargoyles, eyes red.

"YOU! My family will return twice as strong, and they will finish you, monsta'!"

"But you will not be there to see it." she said in a voice smoothe-as-butter voice.

The gargoyles leapt, and the red firedrake advanced upon himr, and the battle ensued.

Bogamil, however, was not focused on the battle, but rather her eyes were turned to the hills, waiting.

A low rumbling filled the land. Rocks moved, and all the creatures were thrown to the ground. The sound of an explosion rocked the land, and it's percussion hit all. A brilliant red flare illuminated the coming night.

Demona silently cursed. She'd always known about one or two active volcanoes along this chain, but they'd been silent for an eternity! Why today? Why when her dreams were near fulfillment?

Demona leapt for the Hunter, who was still reacting to the volcanic eruption. Just before Demona could touch her with her talons, he dodged under the dazed gargoyles, and fled.

The demon-gargoyle cursed, and followed. She would not loose her now! Not while he was still so close!

  
  


In the eternal darkness of the cave, there was a sudden light, spreading like a web across the surface of two frozen gargoyles. They roared, one high and screeching like a great raptor, and one the cat-like snarl of a great cat.

Both suddenly clasped their throats, and collapsed, choking.

They wheezed and sputtered the air. Iolair struggled to see. She wished she still had his falcon's eyes which could pierce any darkness. All her darkness-eyes could see was smoke and swirling vapors. However, beyond it there was a slight red glow coming from where they had been working.

Iolair took Cearda in arm, and began to drag her from the piles of stone that had accumulated about their feet during the day. "Poison gas..."

Cearda was hacking so harshly that her reply was unintelligible. They stumbled from that cavern. Retreating back to the place where they had first entered and the entrance blocked, both collapsed onto the bed of stone in exhaustion.

  
  


Demona snarled in frustration. She scoured the land, looking for her, testing the air, trying to track her down. He'd simply vanished. In utter anger, Demona went back to her clan.

  
  


The heat had risen tremendously in the last few minutes, and the gargoyles in the cave were panting for breath.

"Something... is consuming... the air..." he observed.

Cearda only nodded.

There was a rumbling in the ground, like the wake of a large explosion the ceiling damaged in the blast from the Hunter's black powder, collapsed onto of the two gargoyles.

Iolair threw herself on top of Cearda, as the stone piled on top of them.

Under the piles of stones, Cearda felt Iolair sprawled atop her, and her feel her breath brushing her face. The other gargoyle suddenly peeled back, and forced the stone from atop her.

She was not successful at first.

"The whole hillside... may have just come down... on us..." he panted. "Some more air..."

On her third try, the stones rolled away into the cave. Iolair clawed her way out of nearly twenty feet of fallen rock. A lot of the rock fell down on Cearda, but Iolair was now too disgusted at her thankless nature to help. She angrily forced her own way out.

They were both starting to choke again.

"The gas is pouring in here, a gas from deep within the stone you come from, that can only poison your wretched kind." A voice echoed down the hall.

Iolair stiffened. "YOU!" she snarled.

"Pentric Oxidous Acid, as the alchemists call it. A very rare gas which penetrates molten rocks from beneath the mountains."

"What, doesn't your kind believe this world is flat, still?" Cearda snapped at him.

"Look at the horizon and tell me it is not." the figure barely visible in the darkness and gasses was saying. She drew the mask from his face, and let his black hair tumble down.

"Samuel Kanmore." Iolair breathed. "Have you come... to sample the death?"

"You should not threaten me, females, as it is your eggs I am here to destroy, not you."

"How is it possible... for an acid not... to eat at a human?" Cearda panted.

"Humans... come from the water,... Gargoyles come from the stone... each has it's bane... some water-based poisons... do not work on gargoyles... while some sulfuric fumes... kill our kind. Just as... dragonsbane kills only a dragon." Iolair deduced. She reached for the hunter's sword, but stumbled, unfamiliar with the weight of her breasts - her center of gravity had changed when her sex had changed.

She and the Hunter struggled over the his sword for a moment. Iolair delivered a hard fisted blow to the hunter's chest, and slashed deep lacerations into his side.

"Monsters!" the hunter snarled. He railed lacerations into Iolair's thick flesh. "I will plant this gas into your nest, and it will eat your eggs away to nothing."

"Grarh! We are no monsters! You humans are the monsters! Only humans... *wheeze* would slaughter helpless... unborn children!"

The Hunter was starting to move past the dizzy Iolair towards Cearda. Iolair spun the blade over the Hunter's head, nearly taking his head off, but the sword only came close to his arm. Iolair stumbled again, and fell.

There was a sickened sound, as the Hunter took the sword from Iolair, and sliced through the fallen gargoyle's heart. Then the sound came again, as Cearda's dagger penetrated the Hunter's skull, using his seconds of distraction with Iolair to her advantage. The Hunter fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

  
  


"What on earth do you mean? The Hunter escaped!" Demona protested.

"The Hunter did not escape." Bogamil reaffirmed. "Iolair and Cearda have seen to his death."

"I don't believe it!" Demona snarled in outrage, fire alight in her eyes. "The hunter is **my** prey! Iolair has no place...!"

"Iolair is dead."

Demona stopped, her anger suddenly chilled. "What?"

"Iolair lost his life in that battle. Cearda's is still in jeopardy."

Demona leapt. "Then we must find her!"

"Nay! It's my turn now! Let me find her."

Demona swallowed her snarl. "Very well then." She glanced at Bogamil with suspicion, but began to follow his words without further question.

  
  


No doubt the Hunter had sealed his entrance, sealing both him and the gargoyles in this cavern, she deduced. Cearda returned to where the gasses poured and the air was sucked away, trying to find the way of escape.

Barely able to stand the heat and gasses, she found a single crack in the wall Iolair had been striving to cut through. There was a single ray of red light emanating there. Iolair had succeeded in making a hole!!! Cearda curled a fist, and slammed her way through the rock. It gave way under her angry force.

Suddenly, the rock beneath Cearda gave way, opening out into a large cavern, filled with oozing liquid stone. She suddenly grabbed for the stone, trying to keep herself out of the pit, digging her razor sharp claws deep into the stone. Rocks around her fell into the river of heat. Cearda cried out. The stone she had sunk her talons into began to crack and give way.

Cearda screamed.

  
  


  
  


Demona nodded. "One night, one night alone. Tigris and Iolair will be together."

  
  


  
  


Cearda screamed... then felt her wrist shackled. She looked up and saw the widely smiling face of Bogamil.

"Looks like you're in a spot of trouble!" he beamed cheerfully.

"Bogamil! Pull me up! Pull me up!!"

Bogamil braced herself and leaned back upon his haunches. "Right away, Great Lady!"

Cearda folded her wings and tried not to struggle too much as she was pulled out of the hellish abyss.

Bogamil raised her then set her down on her feet. Bogamil grunted, seeing Iolair's slain form. "Well it's a good thing I flew by. Come, we must get out of here. I am sure Demona won't like this."

Cearda chuckled. She took hold of Iolair's legs, while Bogamil bent, then picked up the slain gargoyle and slung her over his shoulder and out of the way of his wings. 

Cearda glared at the corpse of the hunter. "Do you think Demona wants proof?"

Bogamil nodded once. "Use the sword and then chop off his head. I am sure Demona shall want to hang it up as a trophy."

Cearda smiled slightly and did as directed. Finished, she hung the head from her belt and tossed the rest of the body into the lava stream.

"Roast in the pit of hell where you belong demon." she snarled.

"Good for you!" crowed Bogamil. He flared his wings, caught an updraft and soared off to rejoin the other gargoyles of his clan, Cearda behind him.

  
  


Demona was waiting for them. When she saw the head of the Hunter hanging from Cearda's belt she eagerly waited for it to be given to her. A task that Cearda couldn't get done swiftly enough. She held the skull overhead, eyes glowing like red embers, wings flared out triumphantly

"BEHOLD! ONE HUNTER IS DEAD! OUR GENERATION IS SAFE! REJOICE! WE ARE NO LONGER PURSUED!!!"

A huge cheer arose from clan. Demona smiled then laughed delightedly. "How did you do it?!" she asked excitedly.

Bogamil laid the form of Iolair on the ground at her feet. "It was Cearda's doing. That's her strike."

"The Golden Gargoyle of Byzantium has prevailed." cheered Demona. Cearda held her chin high, her wings bristling.

Then she looked at Iolair, and knelt by her side. "I was just starting to trust her with more dangerous tasks."

Cearda looked down a the male-turned-female and did not have much to say. "I'll place her body in the rookery. She'll turn to stone soon for the last time, and I think she'd rather it was there."

"I am proud of you Iolair. Thank you." Demona grunted and turned away, looking for an appropriate place to put her new **toy**!

  
  


"So what are the ramifications of what you are saying?" Demona sounded frustrated.

"I'm saying that, though the hunter was stopped before he reached the rookery, the whole hillside is coming down on us in the eruption, and the gases the hunter released are spreading all over the caves that make up your home." Bogamil explained. He fluttered his dragonian wings slightly. At a very impressive size, the great creature was very imposing and businesslike. Demona could tell he was not saying these things lightly. "Being a dragon, I am not affected by this gas, but your kind will have to leave."

"NEVER!" Demona snarled. "We have been driven back by the humans, again and again! The line must be drawn! No further!"

"If we stay here, you sign the clan's death warrants." Bogamil was deadly serious.

"I cannot be responsible for harming another member of my clan." Demona sounded resigned.

"Home, great Queen of Gargoyles, is wherever your heart is - wherever your clan roosts." came a familiar female voice.

Cearda, Demona, and the others turned to see the new gargoyle step out of the shadows.

"Malcora?" Demona asked. "Why are you here?"

"Partially to gloat and say 'I told you so', but more importantly I need to collect my brother's body."

There was, again, stony silence. "Tutela's line died out long ago."

"Don't feign ignorance with me, my Queen. You knew of my brother and his ancestry when you first laid eyes on him."

Cearda stood by Demona's side. It appeared that she knew nothing about Iolair's gender metamorphosis, and Demona did not want to admit she made the mistake of calling forth the dark god Chernobog who had transformed Iolair into her current female self.

"He is dead." Cearda said truthfully.

"You lie!" she accused Cearda, pointing in her direction - eyes aflame. "How did it happen?"

"He was killed by Samuel Kanmore."

Lady Christyne was furious, her wings snapping open. Demona pointed to a bleeding head on a pig pole near the entryway. "There." Demona pointed out, "Rests the head of Samuel Kanmore."

Lady Christyne looked at the grotesque human head with an expression mixed between amusement and deep sorrow. "Where is my brother's body?"

"Destroyed, along with the remains of the hunter's body." Demona inserted.

Christyne turned, defeated, walked back into the shadows and disappeared.

Demona turned to Cearda. "In saving the life of my Second-In-Command, Iolair gave his life. Come. We must take the eggs from the rookery before it is too late."

  
  


  
  


Among the snowdrifted peaks, it was obvious from their point of view that their home was being destroyed by mother nature herself even as they watched from far across the valley. "The hunter! He did this! The eruption could only be caused by some deep magic of his! It must be! They will pay for this! I will make them all pay!"

"Yes, my Queen." Cearda placed a paw on Demona's shoulder. "But where do we go now?"

"I know of a place." came the voice of Lady Christyne.

"Malcora? Have you come to fight with us?" Cearda inquired.

The salmon-colored gargoyle shook her head. "I am not the Christyne of this time - right now I live in Utah, hiding from the humans." she said with a note of distaste in her voice. "Now, I've come kill you, unless you tell me the truth about my brother's death."

  
  


  
  


Cearda's halberd was raised, and Demona snarled. "Malcora, you traitor!"

"NO! Demona, YOU are the traitor! You serve only yourself!" she pointed a talon in Demona's direction. Was it just her imagination of was Christyne growing... larger? "You left a clan of gargoyles to die! That is a violation of your most sacred law! Protect the gargoyles at all costs? What of my mother's family? They were raised gargoyles, and you slaughtered them all! You are the enemy of all gargoyles! Just like you slaughtered my brother!"

Cearda replied with a falcon-call. "What makes you think we caused he... his death."

"Do you think me a fool? It's too convenient that the lava flows of this eruption should take my brother's body. At least you had proof of the hunter's existence - but would you be so careless as to leave Iolair's body tp be swallowed by the flows?"

"There was nothing I could have done!" she protested. "I barely escaped from the hunter with my life this time!"

"Iolair's sacrifice saved her life!" Demona added.

"I know you have his body, I have foreseen it! Where is it?"

"Our home is under flame! How can we show you anything there?" Demona protested.

"Why do you continue to lie to me?!!!" she screamed. Throwing her head back, she began to chant. Her voice reverberated everywhere, seemingly from the sky itself. "HAIL TO HEAVEN, EARTH, AND HELL! HAIL TO SKY AND WIND AND WAVES! COME, AID YOUR SISTER!!!"

Great columns of fire, wind, and water formed from almost nothing, surrounding the three gargoyles - Christyne, Demona, and Cearda. Each of these elemental columns formed themselves into Christyne's shape and immense size. Demona and Cearda searched around them for the rest of their clan, but they were nowhere to be seen. Christyne and the four other monsters encircled Demona and Cearda.

"Tell me the truth, Demona."

Cearda turned to Demona. "I'll not support you in dishonesty - it is dishonorable, my Queen."

"You have turned against me too, my Second-In-Command?"

Christyne gasped in frustration. "When will you LEARN? No one has betrayed you - not even me! It is you who is in the wrong, and you must learn to take responsibility for your actions!"

"Your mad - if you think I murdered Iolair...!"

"I've raised seven hatchlings of my own, Demona, each seemingly more human than the last. You - however - are the most HUMAN gargoyle I've ever encountered!"

Demona, tipped to the peak of her anger, raced forward in a rage toward the watery apparition of a gargoyle. However, instead of water, Demona immediately found herself trapped in a stone cage underneath the sea. Some kind of... sea monster was closing in on her, snapping and snarling as it came.

Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared in the water, she was back on dry ground, soggy and dripping.

"Where..." Demona was baffled, "Did you come by this power?"

"I am not of this time Demona. My counterpart of this time will seek you out when the time is right. However, for me it has already happened. I have come, however, to exact my revenge on you."

Cearda was frustrated. "What have we done to you, human?"

Cearda did not even see the attack coming, as a burst of energy and light found Cearda sprawled out on the ground. Cearda brought her halberd to bear, prepared for another attack.

"I am as much gargoyle as you are. I was born a gargoyle, and forced to live as a human in order to survive the humans! I was forced to become a human because of YOU Demona! Now you have slain the last of my gargoyle family, and I will have your head!"

Cearda threw her head back and laughed long and loud. "Has the future dulled your reason, fool? She is Demona the deathless! She cannot die!"

And then she was gone. There was no sign of the gargoyle female, or the monsters she had created. The silence was eerie, as a light breeze touched their hair. Quickly, that breeze became a rushing gale, as three lights appeared before Demona.

Demona's jaw dropped, as before her, from columns of flame formed three Christyne's - each with a different color hair, golden, silver, and ebony.

"That may be, Demona. But so am I." the three said in unison.

Demona was agape.

"What... What are you?"

"Your worst nightmare." they said in unison. All at once, each of them carried a sword. Silver tiara's appeared on their brows. Cearda took an involuntary step backwards as she felt the level of power before them rise.

Cearda's mind was racing. "So neither of you can be slain, or at least not easily. There is no need to start this fight. Malcora, I know your heart is the dark heart of one who killed many of the humans in your youth, but you are not a dishonorable gargoyle, and revenge upon another gargoyle is dishonorable - I don't care what the crime."

The three Christyne's circled Demona with their swords, unfaltering. "Of course it is. However, I did not come here to do battle. My revenge shall be meet in another way."

All at once, Cearda was alone. She searched far and wide with her magic, but the presence of both Demona and Christyne was gone. She lowered her halberd, shaken, and uncertain.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Demona reawoke in the cavern of Iolair's dream. There was an open door in front of her, but no one was in sight. A light poured out from the room beyond the door, and so Demona followed it. Upon the floor Demona saw small bits of stone. Curious, she pressed further into the room. The bits of stone turned out to be bits of talons, bits of wings, bits of horns, bits of tails.

These were gargoyles!, she realized.

A howling sound was heard. She felt the hair of her red mane on the back of her neck begin to stiffen. The howling grew louder into wailing. Demona turned back to the door, but heard a slamming noise, and the door had closed shut. She rushed over to it, to struggle to open it, but no matter how hard she pushed or pulled it would not budge.

There was a rustling and clattering sound among the stones. Demona felt someone's eyes upon her, and turned to see the piles of stones had become stone gargoyles.

She knew their faces, every single one of them.

"DE... MO... NA...!!!" their voices wailed. "DE... MO... NA...!!!"

The stone figures walked forward, grinding their stone joints, surrounding her on every side. There must have been a hundred of them! They were the children of Tutela, screaming for her blood.

Demona screamed.

  
  


  
  


Cearda's hand on Demona's shoulder stopped her quivering. "My... My queen?" she asked in concern.

Demona looked up into her second's eyes in relief, as Cearda looked around for Christyne. She had not yet reappeared.

"This is your curse from me, Queen of Gargoyles." Christyne's voice echoed from no place immediately evident. "Every day, skin or stone, you will remember them, and wail your name, the name of the Queen who betrayed them. Cearda, I forbid you to interfere, or you too shall share her haunting."

Cearda snarled at the unseen voice.

"Come forth!" Christyne shouted in the air above their heads.

The land suddenly exploded in light and with a deafening sound. Tendrils of flame exploded into existence, leaving behind the figure of a gargoyle.

Cearda and Demona gasped. There, stepping out of the flames, came Iolair - fully restored to his normal male self.

"What... How is this possible? Is it really him?" Demona sputtered.

"He has no memory of your battle with the Hunter, or Chernobog, and no memory of being female. Though his soul has femininity within it, those are demons he must wrestle with on another night." Christyne declared.

Iolair did not seem to hear this, but stood, like a statue, facing the clan's ruined home, wings ajar and battleready.

"How is this possible?" Demona asked. Cearda stood silently, not saying a thing.

"Cassandra is not the only one with the power to restore dead cells to life. His soul was not yet crossed over - his time is not yet ended." Christyne explained. "As a matter of fact, I found another warrior of yours that had not yet crossed over into flames of the darkness."

Flames and an explosion of light again, this time producing a female gargoyle. "Char!" Demona said in a pleased tone. "Greetings, youngling!"

"All hail the Mighty Queen of Gargoyles!" Char intoned. "Is our clan safe from that... that monster Chernobog?"

Cearda smiled, though weakly. "Yes, the clan is safe. Homeless, but safe."

Char walked over to Iolair, and together they watched the eruption. "Brother?"

"Sister?"

"Come." Char told him. "They will need an extra paw with the rookery eggs. You are good with the eggs anyway, no?"

Iolair laughed, and followed as they turned and left.

"What a Soap-Opera we lead." Cearda smiled, turning back to her queen.

Demona was still very shaken from her experience, although Cearda was not yet aware of what it was. However, she knew better than to ask. Cearda could feel Christyne's presence had left them now, but she knew that Christyne could easily carry out her threat.

  
  


  
  


It was a ragged band of gargoyles that approached the Castle Drake not long after the setting of the sun. It was Iolair and Char who set foot first down on the ramparts of the Castle Drake. Demona recognized the one known as Obsidiana standing there, they talked for a few moments, and then Obsidiana turned and stepped down within the castle. Iolair motioned for the clan to continue.

A large band of gargoyles stood in the middle of the courtyard very quietly when the current clan leader, Lysander stepped up from the bowels of the fortress to meet them. Demona and Cearda maintained their haughty attitude, but Lysander was unphased by it. Very few words were exchanged, because the meaning was already understood.

"Iolair is our rookery brother, and any friend of his is a friend of ours. Your clan is welcome here." she told them.

Then Christyne stepped from the bowels of the castle to face them, her gargoyle wings and her brilliant hair blowing behind her as if by some invisible wind. She appeared to walk on the air itself.

"Malcora." Cearda nodded.

"Always a pleasure, sister." she turned to Demona, curtsying. "Your highness. I am but your humble follower."

"Would you serve your fellow gargoyles?" Demona inquired, critically.

"I am here to bargain with you, Demona. You will live here in peace for some time. I am here for your word that you will give my brother the honor his clan and ancestry demands. You are in debt to your fellow gargoyles, for your betrayal of the gargoyles of Castle Rushen, and the time has come to repay that debt."

"How have I dishonored your brother?" Demona asked.

"By offering him as sacrifice to the Dark God is not the act of an honorable gargoyle queen."

"However, one day you will come to us." Cearda predicted.

"That may be. I am not unaware of the spell you placed on me when I was little."

Cearda looked at Demona. Demona was trapped. However, Christyne did nothing. With a final bow, she took a step backwards and vanished in a puff of flame.

Demona looked at her second. "What was the meaning of that."

"She's warning you to keep your nose clean in her book." Iolair translated, who had watched the whole exchange.

"I fail to see why I should have to be subservient to a group of gargoyles with human ancestry."

"We are not subservient to her, Demona." Cearda clarified. "She just placed herself in OUR service, not the other way around."

"I wouldn't knock Tutela's line, Demona." Iolair advised, "You're a gargoyle who has spent time among humans just as much as she has."

Demona snarled at the eagle-headed male, and turned wordlessly away. Iolair appeared about ready to go after her, but Cearda placed a paw on his shoulder.

"Don't. She's paid for her actions a long time ago. She still honors you, I don't think that will change." Cearda smiled at him. "However, if Malcora shows her face to torment Demona anymore, Demona will probably try to decapitate her!"

Iolair laughed. Cearda and her shoulder-warrior clasped their wrists together.


	8. Oracle

Writing begun: December 19, 1999   
Completed on: January 14, 2000   
This version is current as of: February 29, 2000

SETTING   
This story takes place between the time when Iolair and Tigris were reunited.   
The year is 2005 - before Phantom 6.

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This is not a G-rated fanfic! It contains some sexual innuendo, and one mild attempted rape. It contains a little language. It does contain transgendered themes, which means one or more characters may change gender. If you are offended by this idea, you may want to not read on. I would recommend a PG-13 rating. 

NOTE: For those who are not familiar with the Mini~clan, let me explain in advance. Originally, MC was a Gargoyles online fan group where anyone from across the Internet could play a character they defined. This is a blending of that universe. Each of the characters from the MC represent a real Gargoyles fan. However, this story is a work of fiction, and has nothing to do with actual events transpiring in or around those people. Anything that is not readily known about them, I will explain in the context of the story. 

  
  


**Castle Gorebash, 2010**

  
  


Iolair and Tigris reached the decision not to go home to the mountainous caves of the fay Christyne and Phantom, and so brother and sister went their separate ways - promising to visit occasionally. They felt it was time that they go and start lives of their own. Therefore, they flew to another clan of which Iolair had spent a long time with, but had left on accounts of how little they and he had gotten along. Tigris was hopeful that between Tigris and Iolair, it didn't matter what the other members of the clan thought of him - they could just be happy together. 

Upon approaching the castle, buried deep within the woods of some country and fairy realm that Tigris could neither recognize nor name, stood the tall, proud parapets with banners and flags announcing it's occupants. Iolair gave a shrill cry, which was replied by several similar cries from the castle. 

"We're in luck! The king is coming up to see us!" 

"Is he a good king?" 

"Would I have lived here if he were not? I will warn you though - the king of this castle is a dragon." 

"How do they remain hidden from humans?" 

"This is a Fairy Realm. There are enough spells around this castle to wet your talons in." Iolair smiled. 

"Do you still have friends here?" 

"Yes, and my teachers who taught me some battlecraft, and all that I know about magic." 

Tigris nodded in her usual, succinct fashion of a young warrior. 

Upon touching down upon the balustrade and folding his wings, two other gargoyles approached them. One was a tan and green colored gargoyle with double wings (the ordinary type). The other was a blue/tabby grey colored gargoyle who carried a stave in her paw. 

"Have you made your peace? Or have you separated from the Clann Na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir?" 

"I have separated myself, as has Christyne. Demona may... spread her hate and discontent elsewhere." he added, honestly. 

Lysander held out her paw to them. "Then welcome back to our small clan, both of you! Welcome to the Miniclan, Tigris!" 

Demeter, green colored gargoyle, hugged Iolair tightly. "We were worried! You were so sad after the battle - we were afraid you would never come back!" 

"No," Iolair sighed. "This... has become home to me. I have only... learned some things, I think." 

"...And gained some things." Tigris reminded him. 

"A WEDDING! A WEDDING!" Lysander and Demeter announced to the castle, whooping and hollering. They rushed off in a flurry of wings, as others took up the cry. 

"Whose wedding?" 

"Ours, midear." Iolair smiled at his long-lost lover. 

"But... they are so human! That is such a human ritual!" 

"But...!" Iolair explained. "My love, I was born a human - as my genetic family all were. I will not let go of the traditions of my ancestors anymore than a gargoyle can stop protecting the ones we love." 

"...and they?" 

"As a rule, the Miniclan is based on a philosophy that we protect gargoyles - as a race. We do protect a castle, but in doing so we protect it's rookery. We are here to keep gargoyles from becoming extinct. In order to help us do this, we've adapted to the changes in the outside world by learning about it." 

"Why?" 

"You cannot fight a weapon you cannot understand." 

Tigris nodded. That made sense to her. "This is why these gargoyles act like monkeys?" 

Iolair guffawed a little at this remark, and smiled. "Yes, yes they do. Lovable monkeys too - ones that would lay down their life to save that of another gargoyle's for another day." 

Tigris, hearing this, smiled approvingly. "They are not like my clan, but they are gargoyles. They share my values - they protect, as all gargoyles do. I shall roost here - with you." 

The two gargoyles, deeply in love, nuzzled each other again. 

  
  


Rows of trumpets blared, announcing the entrance of the bride. Iolair smiled - amazing what magic can do to make a wedding dress fit the most difficult of models. He noted with a detached fascination that she really hadn't done anything with her hair, but was still very attractive. No matter, he decided - he liked her exactly as she was. 

There was a wide assortment of creatures in attendance. Many were fay, or human. Some were of races Tigris could not identify. Presiding was the king, only now Tigris met him in his real form, that of the dragon Gorebash. Hence, the playful name for the castle being "Castle Gorebash". Tigris recognized some of the fay - Christyne and her mate Arion, Sharm, her old clan leader Cassandra (having not minded her leaving - announcing that she had expected it). Sharm, of course, was already in tears. There were humans beside them, Mandy and Thom. Of course, there were all the children, gargoyle and human alike - nearly all, for some reason which could only be attributed to Sharm, nearly all were female. Iolair's mother Tutela - a dragon-like gargoyle - was here, as well as his other sister Keturah - a human with the wings of a falcon. 

There were members of the Miniclan everywhere, hardly able to sit still in their seats, as the air around Tigris became very tense, waiting for the "big moment". Upon reaching the podium, Tigris took her lover's hand, and both knelt, facing the king. 

There was some speech given about why the humans valued "marwage", but to Tigris it sounded exactly like a gargoyle's honorable promise of mating. This ceremony, she deduced, was only a formality. 

Iolair expressed his token of love in poetry. He knelt at Tigris's feet, and looked deep into her eyes. 

**The Sea   
roils, tosses, billows   
soft and gentle swells of your hair   
The sky   
cloudless, soft, endless   
with a single red rose   
your lips   
I stand by your side   
my heart beating   
your strength   
and emotion   
your love   
and your laughter.   
My best friend   
from long ago.   
I worship my God   
and you.**

A touch   
our arms around each other   
my fears fly away   
the beating of your heart   
the warmth of your breasts   
I hold you close

_beautiful_

Little did Tigris know Iolair was panicking. Not that this is unusual for a potential mate at a wedding, but something was amiss that no one knew about. Deep within Iolair's thoughts, he was constantly attempting to reassure himself. "This will make me better. This will make me better..." 

  
  


However, their happiness did not last long. After a month on honeymoon from the Miniclan, it was already obvious that **something** was wrong. There were occasional jabs and snipes at each other that were anything but fun. Sometimes one or the other would sulk off and pout for a while, and quickly it became apparent that they were arguing. 

But how? The clan asked themselves - how could such a match made in heaven be so tainted with fighting so soon? 

Everyone secretly had guesses, but they were seldom voiced aloud, and NEVER voiced around the mated pair. Some suspected that a true gargoyle - human union like theirs would never work. Others said that was nonsense, and that Iolair's past ties to the Clann Na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir were not yet dead and that he should be driven out as they had agreed. Still others thought there was a hidden love triangle going on - that Iolair was secretly in love with Demeter. 

However, the answer was so immense, so frightening, that it shocked everyone. The day that answer finally came out, was the day that Demeter and Iolair had a long talk in the rookery. Iolair was just sitting there among the eggs, touching them tenderly, as if trying to crawl inside them. Demeter, the midwife and wisewoman of the clan, often checked on the eggs, but today, upon seeing Iolair here, deduced that she had come down to the rookery this night for another reason. 

"Iolair?" she inquired. 

The eagle-headed gargoyle just sighed, depressed. "Am I in your way? 

"No, but it's usually an insult for a gargoyle to be **forced** to return to the rookery, let alone for him to come down here himself." she explained. 

"I don't care about that." he replied. "I just... wanted to be with the eggs." 

Demeter sighed, and laid down in the soft, cool earth before him, to talk to him. "Tell me what you feel." 

Iolair laughed. "I... want to be happy." 

"Why aren't you happy?" 

"I don't know. I thought being mated would solve the problem." 

"Problem?" Demeter asked, surprised, "What problem?" 

Iolair blinked. "You mean you don't know? I thought the whole clan knew by now that our companionship is falling apart because of me." 

"Why do you say that? How is it because of you?" 

Iolair sighed, deeply, hanging his head back, looking at the ceiling. "Because I walk funny." 

"Funny? You were born human, not gargoyle, that should be expected." Demeter tried to reassure him. 

"No no no, you don't understand. Tigris says..." Demeter held her breath. He was trying to say something important, she realized. "...That I... kinda... swing my hips too much." 

Demeter blinked. That was the last answer she had expected to come out of his mouth. "Y... Your hips?" Her expression was awash with puzzlement. 

"...And I gesture too much with my paws and my talons." Iolair added. "...And my hips have always been just a little too wide." 

Demeter, dumbfounded, blurted out "What difference should THAT make?" 

Iolair looked at her. "Should it? Does Death Wing have that sixth sense that can tell exactly what you are feeling?" 

Demeter wished such were a property of her current mate. 

"That's a great quality to have!" 

"Except for one thing." 

"Which is? 

"I can't... do _**it**_." 

Demeter blinked for a second, confused. 

Iolair looked around the rookery. "I've always wanted to be a parent... to see a little life in my hands, and know that I made it, and that I would raise him or her - (most likely a her if Sharm has anything to do with it). But I can't... do it." 

"Do what?" 

"Make her pregnant." Iolair sighed, referring to Tigris. 

Demeter was silent for a very long time. When she finally spoke, she said "How can you know?" 

"I just... know. I can't even... touch her." 

"Well," Demeter tried to explain, "You used to be human, so that's unders..." 

"No no no," Iolair interrupted her. "You don't understand." 

Demeter blinked. "What then? Why can't you touch her?" 

Another long silence from Iolair, looking down at the eggs. Water dripped in the distance, echoing. They could almost hear the earth itself - the trees growing, pushing their roots slowly deeper into the earth outside the castle walls. Iolair picked up one of the eggs, and gently caressed it in his arms, like he would a child, or Tigris herself. 

"What's it like to be a mother, Demeter?" 

Taken aback by the question, she sputtered she did not yet know, her time to become pregnant, unlike Tigris, had not yet come. "Why do you want to know?" 

"I don't know, but I do." 

"Iolair, what is it you are trying to say?" Demeter asked, deadly serious. 

Iolair returned the egg, as though it were made of glass, back to it's resting spot. "I want one." 

"We have magic that can help Tigris..." Demeter began. 

"No." Iolair interrupted again. "You don't understand." 

Another long silence. Demeter was almost ready to shout. 

"_**I**_... want to have one." he managed to say. 

Baffled again, Demeter sat next to Iolair as this statement slowly sank in. "You mean... YOU... want to become pregnant?" 

Iolair nodded, solemnly, eyes looking fixedly at the ground. 

"You want to be a female?" 

Iolair closed his eyes, as if the remark was painful, and nodded again, never once raising his head. 

Demeter touched her heart, gasping and sputtering. "I... I... don't know what to say." 

"Tell me I'm a sick pervert who is going straight to hell." Iolair said bitterly. 

Demeter sighed. "Gargoyles don't believe in hell." 

Iolair did not reply. 

Demeter swallowed hard, and asked one more question. "Do you... like boys?" 

From where Iolair's face was turned towards the ground, sobbing began, and teardrops fell from Iolair's beak and facial feathers. "Yes." 

  
  


  
  


"HE'S WHAT?!!!!" Tigris burst. 

Shayde, the clan mother, and the one in whom Demeter confided the most, was a bright purple gargoyle, with very wise eyes. "Brother Iolair is gay." 

Tigris paced the floor relentlessly, smashing her fist into a stone table to release her anger. "I thought I married a gargoyle, not a human! Only humans have these kinds of problems." 

"That's not true." Demeter added. "It's as rare as gargoyle are rare, so you seldom hear about it among us, but we have one right here in our clan. Several, in fact." 

"We are a clan of outcast gargoyles with a single goal, Tigris." Shayde explained. "Our current clan leader and Iolair's mentor Lysander is Bisexual. Lex's mate Kai is another female, and for a long time Kai crossdressed here as a male gargoyle." 

Tigris sputtered angrily. "How can a GARGOYLE crossdress? Lysander... must have had some...effect on him." 

"It is NOT a disease that can be transmitted." Shayde said with a cutting voice. "Lysander cannot give it to anyone. Lex has never said that she likes women, even though to this very day she still remains attracted to Kai. Do you feel you want to be a boy?" 

"NO!" Tigris retorted angrily. "Why on earth would a female want to be a male?" 

"Why would a male wish to be female?" Shayde countered pointedly. "And let's get one thing straight, he's not a Homosexual, he's a Transsexual - Native Indians called them 'Hirjas' and worshiped them as a goddess-like third sex. Native Americans, a whole continent away, call them 'Two-Spirits', or 'Berdaches', where they are looked up to as shamans and wise-women." 

Tigris glared at Shayde, pointing a talon away from them, as if towards Iolair who was not present.. "Iolair is NO woman!" 

"Really?" Demeter asked, calm and collected. "Then why does he have a woman's intuition?" Tigris blinked momentarily. "He knows exactly when you want to be touched and when you don't. He knows when you are faking a headache, and when you're not." 

Tigris bristled at the personal remarks. 

"Why do you complain he uses his hands so much?" Shayde asked, collected again, "Or that he swivels his hips when he walks? That he spends way too much time with females, but never touching them? Cooking? Cleaning? Sewing?" Demeter laughed. "Giving fashion advice to gargoyles?" 

"Aren't these your own words to him?" Demeter inquired. 

Tigris focused her anger on these two. "Yes, they are - but it's not MY fault he feels this way!" 

"No, it's not." Demeter and Shayde both agreed. 

"You had nothing to do with this. I'll bet my magic that it was there from the moment Iolair was born, as a human. He's said himself that he cannot remember a time - human or gargoyle - in which this secret was not back there, somewhere in his mind. Cassandra's spell bringing him back to life isn't going to take away something so intrinsic to his very nature as the sex he feels he is on the inside." 

"So..." Tigris deduced. "He thinks he's some kind of... female trapped in the body of a male." 

"That's exactly it." Shayde stated. "He has been trying everything he could think of to make this feeling in him go away. Joining the Clann Na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir was an attempt for him to 'BUTCH UP' and 'BE THE MAN' so-to-speak, hiding the truth that he was not only born human, but felt female inside. Even marrying you, he hoped that living the life of a mated gargoyle would solve the problem - which it hasn't. There's only one thing that will." 

"Why?" Tigris demanded hotly, her blue face flushing dark violet with anger, "WHY CAN'T HE JUST - BE A MALE!" 

"Because he doesn't know how to?" Demeter suggested. 

"I'll show him!" Tigris spat back. 

"You will?" Shayde asked. Tigris bristled again. "Maybe it's because he ISN'T one, therefore he can no more be a male than you or I could be human. We could try, but in the end it would be a lie, disguising who we really are. THAT is how Iolair feels now." 

  
  


  
  


In their room, Tigris and Iolair faced each other from across the room. Neither had yet to say anything, and the silence was the only thing that spoke. 

Iolair rocked nervously back and forth in his seat, waiting for her to speak. 

"I'm not a lesbian." Tigris finally said, simply. 

"I know your not." he replied, just as simply. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"I was trying to find a way to do so without hurting you this way - obviously I've failed." Iolair said, in self-pity. 

More, long silence. 

"Is this all because of the pregnancy problem? You know we can fix that. It's not like it makes you any LESS of a male..." 

"I don't care about being any more or less of a male." He stopped her. "I care about being a mate to you." 

"Then what's the problem?" Tigris exclaimed. 

"I.... Every time I look at you, I want to unzip your skin, step inside, and BE you! Not just you - ANY female!" 

"You ought to feel ashamed of yourself." Tigris accused him. 

"I do. Does that help? I'll do anything you want." Iolair was in tears now. 

Tigris strode forward, standing over her mate. "Just... be a MALE!" she shouted. 

Tigris violently grabbed Iolair by the shoulders, and slapped him. She picked him up, threw him on the ground, tore his loincloth off, and sat atop him. She tried to thrust herself onto him, but he would not respond. He did not fight back - he just continued to fitfully bawl, holding an arm protectively over his eyes. Tigris began to hit him, beat him in the chest and face, trying to get the gargoyle to respond, but Iolair just cried out in pain and did not respond, but instead begged her to stop. "Please! PLEASE!" 

Shayde and Lysander heard the noise, and entered the chamber like streaks of purple lightening. They pried Tigris off of the still crying Iolair, who's loin cloth had been torn off, and was covered in bruises and talon cuts. 

Tigris wrestled with them, but they were bigger than she. "I HATE YOU!" Tigris spat at Iolair. "DEMONA WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE WEAK!" With that, she turned around, and headed the other way, out the door. Shayde and Lysander watched her turn a corner, exit the castle's interior, leap from the balustrade, and scream mournfully into the night, finally disappearing in a magical portal - out of the Miniclan's realm. 

  
  


Iolair had picked himself up and had followed his rookery siblings to the roof as they watched Tigris leave. Shayde sighed in disappointment. "I'm sorry, Iolair..." 

Without a word, Iolair stepped to the balustrade himself, as if he were going to follow, but instead just stood there. Demeter came running up after hearing all the commotion. 

"What's he doing?" Shayde whispered to her. 

"I've got a really bad feeling about this..." Demeter answered. Shayde fidgeted, fingering the dagger she kept at her side. 

Iolair leapt from the roof, but before the other's realized it - this was not a glide. Iolair plunged, back first off the parapet, some thousand feet to the ground below. 

"IOLAIR!" Lysander exclaimed. 

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Shayde and Demeter shouted in chorus. 

  
  


  
  


Hurriedly, two gargoyles, one green and one bright purple raced after the eagle-headed one. Using their wings to tease the very will of gravity itself, they plunged down, faster than the other - giving chase. Almost there... ALMOST there... 

CAUGHT HIM! With only feet to spare! Demeter, ever agile, carried Iolair in her arms, as she and Shayde immediately leveled their flight only feet above the forest floor. 

"WHAT..." began Demeter, out of breath, "WERE YOU... TRYING... TO DO?!!!" 

Iolair twisted and rolled. There was a struggle as he wriggled free of her grasp. Lysander was not far behind them, suddenly shouting "Shayde!" 

Shayde glanced down - Iolair had stolen her dagger! "Hey - I taught you that trick!" 

Lysander tackled Iolair, going for the dagger. Iolair was not strong enough, and Lysander managed to knock it out of his talons and it came to rest in the pine needles a few inches away. Iolair reached for it, but suddenly a three-toed foot came down upon it, blocking his reach. Iolair looked up to see Demeter with a worried look on her face. 

Iolair stopped struggling and lay in a heap on the forest floor where Lysander had tackled him, sobbing. "Just let me die, I beg you." 

"We can't do that!" Demeter protested. "That would be abandoning a fellow gargoyle!" 

Shayde, however, shushed her young prodigy, and motioned for her to step aside. Kneeling down by the weeping male, Shayde began. 

"Okay, that's an option. You can leave everyone who still loves you, here, and back with your genetic clan, in misery. It's extremely selfish, but you have that choice." 

Iolair looked at her, still crying. 

"Actually, as I see it you have three choices at this point. The second is that you can keep on going like this -" Shayde gestured to Iolair's body. "And continue living in your own little world of hell and self-imposed misery." 

"I didn't ask to feel this way." Iolair protested. 

"No, but you can choose not to DO something about it." Shayde emphasized. 

"And... three?" Iolair asked, quavering - as if he did not want to know the answer. 

"Option three is to not follow anyone's else's damned advice, and do what your heart tells you to do. Find a man if you want, or you might seek out a spell of some kind to undergo a change of sex. This choice, at least, has a possibility of happiness for you and the others you love and that love you." 

"It's your decision." Demeter added, conclusively. Lysander nodded. 

  
  


  
  


"The decision is pretty much made, isn't it?" Demeter inquired, as Iolair leaned his feathered face against the pylons holding up the castle, covered in the moss of the rookery. 

He was STILL crying, and did not reply. 

"For what it's worth, though..." Demeter added. "I'm with you." 

Iolair turned and looked at her. 

"Whatever you decide, I will stand beside you." 

Iolair smiled a little. "I have truly learned who are my real allies this day. They are coming from surprising places." 

"**I** don't find it so surprising. I think if I wasn't already married to Death Wing, and you had asked me, I would have married you instead." 

Iolair sat down, staring at her in a stunned fashion, on the ground. Demeter seated herself on the steps, looking at the other. 

"But... what of... God?" Iolair asked. "Won't He be angry with me?" Demeter clasped her hands together. "Personally, I don't believe the masterful writer who composes our lives really cares about our genders. After all..." Demeter explained. "Some of us are born with both gender, some with neither. Some of us are born _liking_ the wrong genders, too." she added, not referring to anyone in particular. "In the end, are these people inherently evil?" 

"Am I?" 

"Are gargoyles? Humans once said that of US, after all." 

"Do gargoyles believe that?" 

"No, we believe differently than the humans. We teach our hatchlings that the Goddess who created us all will some day gather us all back to her breasts, and because She is a woman, she will not care if we are male or female, human or gargoyle, or whatever." Demeter replied - passionately. She clearly believed her words. She went on. "Iolair... you've been raped, and the past few days have been hard for you in recovering from it. I understand that it is male nature that makes rape especially hard for them to bare, let alone a woman. Woman or no, this has only intensified your need to make a solid decision and stay by it." 

Iolair sighed, hanging his head, and leaning forward. "Then maybe it's time that **I** get some new beliefs." 

Demeter nodded. "This is your own personal journey. Only you can make that decision - only you know what you believe." 

"But..." Iolair countered, his head rising, "How can I decide... if I don't know what the options are?" Demeter caught his obvious reference to Shayde's 'three choices'. 

Demeter's left eyebrow rose in an inquisitive fashion. 

  
  


  
  


"After recent events, I have decided to go away from you, this time for much longer than a day. I feel it is not yet time to tell you all **why** these things have happened, but suffice it to say, I must go on a quest." Iolair spoke to his rookery brothers and sisters that composed the smallish clan nicknamed the Miniclan. 

"I have... a great many issues I must find answers to... and possibly seek help in answering them. I shall go alone..." 

"The FERG you will!" came Demeter's voice from the crowd. She came to stand upon the parapet where Iolair stood, standing at his side. "After these past few weeks, you are not going to be left alone again until this thing has passed - if it take my whole life." she shouted to the clan. 

A cry of "Honorable Gargoyles! Honorable Quest!" went up among them, rallying for their support. Iolair bitterly wondered if they would cheer them as honorable if they knew the whole situation. 

Iolair spoke the spell words, and another magical portal appeared in the sky. With a final nod of farewell, the two gargoyles glided up through it's opening... 

...and appeared just above Twin Peaks, just between Salt Lake City and Park City, Utah - exactly where Iolair wanted them to be. 

"Where are we?" Demeter inquired. 

"We are going to look in on my sister and her lover. She has a gift of prophesy, I learned, so I think she should know - at the very least - where we should start." 

Demeter nodded in agreement, and the pair banked until they were near enough to land on the mountainside. They were standing by a slope, in a small clearing of trees. Demeter was about to ask "Now what?" when her question was suddenly answered. A ghosting shape appeared before them which materialized into Iolair's birth-sister Christyne, a strange combination of gargoyle and fay. She had brilliant fluorescent pink hair and eyes that always seemed to float in the air. In fact, Christyne herself did not even bother standing on the ground, and instead hung in the air over it. No one could mistake her long "parasail" ears, denoting her kinship to the third race. 

"Matthew!" she exclaimed, arms open wide. 

"Christine!" he replied, and the two hugged - even to the point of Christyne pulling her brother up into the air with her. 

"Gah... leave off." he sighed, wanting to be put back down on the ground. 

"It's been a few months, but I wasn't quite expecting to hear back from you quite this soon." she said. 

"Then you have not heard?" 

Christyne blinked. "I'm not omniscient. Besides, I never see anything I ever **want** to foresee." 

"Tigris left me." Iolair swallowed hard. 

There was silence for a moment. Christyne stroked her brother's feathers some more in their embrace. Iolair's eyes watered a little, and was about to say something else, but Christyne only shushed him, and continued to stroke his feathery hair in a gentle manner. 

"Why?" was her only question after several long minutes. 

"Christine... I'm... I'm a..." 

"A Transsexual, yes I know. Why did she leave, though?" Christyne cut in. 

Baffled, Iolair stopped. "How... How did you know?" 

"I don't need prophesy to foresee that. I knew when I was in _HIGH SCHOOL_ that you were an effeminate boy. I guessed you'd come out with it someday, before everything with the gargoyles began again." She paused for a moment, thinking. "I think it was when you could only make friends with girls, and showed more interest in things like cooking, cleaning, and sewing, than rough-and-tumble sports or computers that it became obvious to me you were more than homosexual - it was much deeper. When you saw my eggs a few months ago, I couldn't help but notice how you looked at them - and me - in envy." 

Iolair nodded. "That's right." 

Demeter added, "Tigris exploded in a fit of rage, shouting about 'making him BE a male' and things like this, and then sexually assaulted Iolair." 

Christyne was visibly shocked at this. Iolair hung his head, but Christyne held it up again with one finger, by his chin. "No wonder the eagle-head spell never broke." 

"Tigris was wrong for you from the beginning." Demeter sighed. 

Iolair began weeping. "I don't understand how. We were so much in love..." 

"Love can blind all of us." Demeter replied. 

Christyne sighed. "No one can help erase the pain, Matthew." 

"What should I do?" 

Christyne began to say something, but stopped herself. Her eyes turned to Demeter, and for a minute, a long conversation took place between the two using nothing but their eyes. Demeter smiled, and nodded her approval. Christyne gave her a sly grin. 

Turning back to her brother, she spun an arm in the air, creating a magical portal through which an image of an island on the sea appeared. "In the middle of the Mediterranean, not too far from the Aegean Sea lays a hidden island of which no _man_ knows. One of the few remaining refuges for those who follow the ways of pure magic, among their midst is a great oracle. She is said to be a demi-god, or a great fay with powerful visions which can help you get the answers you seek." 

"What is the name of the island?" 

"Lesbos." she replied, with a sidelong glance at Demeter. 

  
  


  
  


* Several Months later * 

  
  


  
  


"Patron saint of Gargoyles, where is this island?" Iolair growled with frustration. 

Demeter, losing patience also - but more with Iolair than with their quest. They had been traveling by the wing for some months now, across the world. It seemed to Demeter that if he were to gain any insight from this journey, it would take many long months of introspection and learning that would help him realize the truth. To date, he had wavered many times between all three of the solutions which Shayde had presented him with. Nobody could make this choice but him. 

They had taken the chance and Demeter had cast a spell enabling them to glide across the Aegean Sea by day, as they might not be able to see it by night. It would only last for one day, but hopefully that would be all they would need. 

"Just a little further to the south - oh there, it is! Right between us and the sun." 

"I've heard of attackers flying out of the sun." Iolair commented. "But this is ridiculous. Doesn't the sun rise in the east in this country?" 

"It's magic, I know it is." Demeter said. "That's the only way this could be so turned around. It's like we appeared on the western side of the island." 

"Whatever." Iolair snapped. "Let's take a look!" 

The island was thickly wooded with a variety of forest and jungle-like plants. Iolair immediately deduced several things about the isle's rainfall patterns. Demeter and he looked around for a minute. 

"What's that...?" Demeter asked. 

"I hear it." Iolair said, finely-attuned eagle-ears narrowing in on the sound. His head swivelled, and started climbing the mountain at the center of the isle on foot. "It's like... music." 

"Very wonderful music." Demeter commented. "It's almost..." 

"...Almost..." Iolair thought aloud, listening. It was soft and gentle, soothing and relaxing, magical and mysterious... "Feminine." 

"Wait... how can MUSIC be feminine?" Demeter asked. "Music should be neutral." 

"But it is!" 

Demeter could not deny it, it stirred something distinctly feminine inside them both. Almost as if this music had been written for them. 

There were insects and small animals in the woods around them. Demeter started to get nervous. "Livestock." Iolair said. "I can tell by the sounds they make." 

"Livestock?" 

"You know... Poulty? Pigs? That sort of thing?" 

"What do you mean... their sounds?" 

"A jungle bird doesn't go 'cluck-cluck-cluck'." Iolair smiled. 

"Thank the Goddess for your ears." she commented. 

"LOOK!" Iolair exclaimed, pointing. 

There, nestled along the path in an out-of-the-way place, was an opening in the side of the mountain just the right size for a person to fit through. The two gargoyles paused. 

"Wait." Demeter said. "We want to make a peaceful and non-threatening entrance, and our normal forms aren't very conducive to that." 

"Disguises?" Iolair asked. "I love disguises." 

Demeter sighed to herself. "Oh, how very much like a woman you are." The green gargoyle spun her hands around, chanting several phrases in Latin. There was a blur, and Iolair saw himself standing in front of a human woman of about 18, and guessed that he looked like a 21 year old human male. 

"Non-threatening." Demeter said. "And it's only an illusion - for now." 

"Works for me." Iolair said, listening to their new speaking voices. 

Slightly smaller now, entering the stone cavern was simple. Each of the warriors produced flashlights in their hands, searching the darkness. A pair of bats flew overhead, and Iolair's head spin around. Demeter pressed on down the natural tunnels. Do birds eat bats, she wondered? Do bats eat birds? Was there a difference? 

Some tunnels were too small for a person to fit through, but hid larger room behind them. Iolair grew nervous. "They're watching us." 

"Who?" Demeter asked. 

"I don't know. Someone. Human, I think." 

"Where?" 

Iolair indicated to the foxholes. "From the darkness beyond. I can hear their pulses. Five or ten of them. Fast and nervous." 

Demeter pressed forward. "Now I see why you like the rookery - you can hear all their little hearts beat, can't you?" 

Iolair nodded affirmatively. "And their movements." 

They approached a large chamber, the stone here appearing to have been carved more than natural formations. Shining their beams about, they could hear a sound, when suddenly the room was filled with the light of flaming torches in the hands of several dozen humans surrounding them in a semi-circle. 

Iolair turned around and found more of them closing on the from behind. Besides torches, they all carried staves with strange ornamentation that simply radiated intense magical power. 

The two warriors, surrounded, turned off their flashlights, and set them, slowly on the ground before them, whereupon the magic that had created them ceased to exist and they disappeared. 

"We mean you no hard." Iolair announced, arms raised. 

No response. Demeter tried it in Latin. Still nothing. 

Arms in the air, they looked at each other. "Notice anything odd about them?" Demeter whispered to Iolair. 

"There's not a man among them." 

"No that I can see - they're all women." 

"Reminds me of a bad 1960's 'B' movie." 

"Murg." Demeter muttered to herself, forcing herself not to swear. 

At the point of their staves, they separated the two of them. Demeter, once separated from Iolair, was no longer escorted at stave point, but was given hugs and the admiring touches of as many of the women as could get close to her. Iolair, on the other hand, was forced forward at stavepoint. 

"I... I really think they don't like me, Demeter." he protested to his compatriot. 

"Don't provoke them! Try and find out what's going on! Try some universal linguistics spells or something!" she shouted before she was lead out of earshot into another cavern. 

Iolair was lead to a small cavern which radiated a pleasant smell - like fresh cooking. He could not place the smell exactly, but it consisted of plant and vegetable matter, some kind of mushroom, and possibly a bit of pork meat. A large door was closed, and guards were posted outside, like a prison cell. 

However, Iolair could hear someone moving about inside the room. Upon looking around, he saw a small but attractive woman of his age at a fire cooking the stew in a large cast-iron kettle. She also had a magical stave of her own, but it was leaning against one wall in a very non-threatening way. Iolair muttered a spell of linguistics so that only she could hear, pointing at her as he said it. Shocked, she hurriedly picked up her magical stave, to defend herself. 

"Do you understand me?" Iolair asked. 

The woman blinked a few times, taken aback by something. "Yes she replied in perfect English. "Since when do you speak the old Grecian tongue?" 

"I don't. I simply cast a spell of language, so that I can speak, and you will hear old Greek." Iolair explained. "I, on the other hand, hear perfect modern English." 

She visibly relaxed. "You know magic, then?" 

"I know a lot of magic, from many different places." 

"How is that possible? You are a man..." 

"Men can do magic too." Iolair nearly laughed. 

"But not on this island." she explained, turning back to her cooking. "This island is for women only, and only female magic works here." 

"Would it help if I told you I learned much of my magic **from** women?" Iolair inquired, folding his arms. 

No reply. 

Iolair changed the subject. He did not wish to get into **another** gender debate with someone who didn't even know about his problem. "What's your name?" 

"I am Lellwyn." she answered. 

"Iolair." 

Puzzled, she looked at him. "Iolair? I do not understand the meaning of that name. I have never heard it before." 

"It is a Gaelic word, meaning 'eagle'." 

She nodded and returned to her cooking, her back turned to him. "Of course. A bird of prey. Hunter, killer." 

"Far seer, agile flyer, skilled listener." Iolair countered her cold remark. "Why do you and your people hate me so?" 

Lellwyn blinked. "I do not hate you." 

"You don't like me, otherwise you wouldn't be so cold to me." 

Frustrated, she answered. "I am not ready to bear a child." 

Taken aback by this answer, Iolair quickly replied. "Then, by my honor, I shall not touch you. I could not have helped you there in any case." 

A little truth for truth, Lellwyn realized. She placed two bowls of stew before them. Lellwyn barely picked at hers, while Iolair just sat and watched her. 

"You have no seed, then?" she asked. 

"No..." Iolair began, but his voice trailed off, not willing to say more on that topic. "Where does the music come from?" Iolair inquired, changing the topic. The music was louder here in the caves. 

"YOU can hear our music?" she asked, dumbfounded. 

"Of course," Iolair replied. 

"But that is the music of women... and their magic." 

"I told you before," Iolair explained, "I was trained by women in magic." 

"It is impossible." she replied. "You are a man, and men's magic is not allowed here." 

"You can understand me, can you not? I cast the spell that allows us to talk, did I not?" Iolair pointed out. 

"I do not understand it." she replied in frustration, picking at her stew. 

Iolair took several large bites of it. It tasted sweet, but not overly so, and abounding with flavor. Iolair could not help but to say, "Mmmmm! It's delicious!" 

Lellwyn smiled. "Thank you." 

"What happens next?" 

"We sleep together tonight in my bed." 

Iolair blinked. "I'll... take the sofa, thank you." Iolair did not really know why he said this, as there was no sofa in sight - only a kitchen, a few chairs, and a bed. 

She glared at him. "You **MUST**! Or else I would be dishonored!" 

Iolair looked at her for a long minute, before motioning to the bed and saying, "Come lay down." 

Nervously, she did so, disrobing. Iolair once again felt that sharp pain in his soul wishing that he could unzip her skin and step inside her. She was beautiful. Iolair, however, did not disrobe, but instead stood by the bedside. 

"It's all about getting seed from men for childbearing, isn't it?" he asked. 

"Yes." she replied. "Everything here is born female." 

"Well, like you, I am not ready to have a baby either." he explained. 

She nodded, understanding. "Then I shall be dishonored." 

"Not necessarily. Is it the contact with a man you do not desire?" 

"Yes." She admitted. 

"Ah." Iolair sighed, smiling. Now it made sense. She was a lesbian, although apparently this was not true of most of her sisters. "Then you are like me." 

"Hold still." he instructed her. "I will only touch you once, and it will only be with my hand." 

She nodded, and closed her eyes. 

Iolair closed his eyes, and drew himself inwards towards his center. He search for the earth, the heavens, and all the other sources of natural power he could grasp from within himself. He reached out and called his sister, his mother, his mentors back home, and then the spell began to be cast. 

"Feather of phoenix, alicorn of unicorn, power of sisters fay, and of brothers human!" he called out. 

Lellwyn opened her eyes momentarily, and saw Iolair's two hands positioned together, over her abdomen. He was glowing in what appeared to be white flames. Intermixed with his image, there appeared several other images, those of women she did not know, some human, some with strange colored hair and long parasail ears of fay. She watched in fascination as, out of nowhere, two objects landed upon her belly. One was a soft red feather that was hot to the touch, and the other a big of bone carved from some animal she could not place. These glowed as well... before Lellwyn finally realized that she two was enveloped by this white flame. 

Then, Iolair touched a single finger, in a distinctly feminine gesture, to her abdomen. There was a bright light upon the touch, and then the flames, the feather, and the bit of bone all vanished, and Iolair said softly. "You are pregnant." 

  
  


"You have the power of a midwife!" she exclaimed, sitting suddenly upright. 

"Well, yes..." Iolair replied. "I learned it from the other that I came here with." 

"But a man cannot know the power of a midwife...!" she protested. 

In a sudden fit of anger of again having his gender insulted, he suddenly blurted out. "I'm **NOT** a man!" 

The silence was deafening, as Iolair realized what he had just said. That was not what he had meant to say. Lellwyn just stared at him, mouth open. 

Suddenly, she leapt to her feat, and slammed her stave into a brass gong that resounded with a clashing sound. The two guards outside the door entered. Lellwyn addressed them directly as they took Iolair physically into their custody. "He is not as he appears! Take them before judgement!" she declared. 

  
  


  
  


All of the sudden, Demeter was there beside him again. "I take it you had more luck than I did?" she asked. 

"One... Two..." Iolair began to count. 

"Three!" both shouted at once, and the illusions fell away, and two adolescent gargoyles stood facing the native human women. Eagle crowed, and Demeter growled. But still they were surrounded on every side, and though they looked far more intimidating than before, they were still lead onwards by stavepoint. 

A chant went up among them. "Judge-ment! Judge-ment! Judge-ment!" 

Finally the two gargoyles were forcefully lead into a chamber with a pool, lots of armed guards, outside the opening, and a single occupant sitting by a fire. 

"SILENCE!" said a loud, thundering, feminine voice. 

The natives were immediately silent, and just watched as the two stood on the dais, within the chamber, by the woman who sat there. 

Up looked a very beautiful seductress, who looked at them both with piercing eyes. Her gaze settled upon Iolair - she already knew the reason, it seemed that they were there. 

"Do you know me?" she asked Iolair in a very human voice. 

"You... you are fay." Iolair deduced from her long parasail ears. 

"I am Circe, and these here are **my** children. By rights I ought to kill you for intruding upon my private realm, but a reason brought you here. A decision, for which you are seeking a sage." 

"I am." he confirmed. 

"You do realize, of course, that men are not allowed to leave here!" she added, threatening him. 

"I... kinda figured that out." he replied, halfheartedly. 

"However, you are an innocent, so therefore I will answer your question **BEFORE** I exact punishment upon you." 

"Th... thank you." he stammered, nervously. 

Circe paced the floor once of twice, before looking back up at him. "Lellwyn tells me that you can hear our music." 

"Yes." 

"It is the music of women - and their magic." 

"Yes." 

"...And you too?" Circe inquired, turning to Demeter. She nodded. "But you are a woman." The mystic turned back to Iolair. "You, however, are an enigma." 

Circe sat back against the wall by her fire, and stared into it for several minutes, when suddenly another voice was heard. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"You Shelton women all have the same problem." Came the ghosting echoes of Sharm's voice. Iolair spun around to see Sharm standing behind him, staring off in no particular direction. 

"Sharm?" he asked. 

"You all run away from your problems - looser's way out." Sharm continued in a ghostly voice. Then, abruptly, she was gone, 

Iolair looked around him. Demeter was gone, Circe was gone, the cave was gone - Iolair was alone in total darkness, except for a light around him which came for no easily determinable source. 

"There's nothing **wrong** with being a girl." Lex's ghosting voice was heard. Iolair turned to see another mirage of Lex standing beside him - again looking off into the distance. She, like before, disappeared, and still more images appeared. 

"You have three choices." Shayde reiterated. "One, you commit suicide, and cause pain for everyone involved. Two, you continue in this self-hatred, and still make everyone - including yourself miserable. Three..." 

Iolair cut her off. "Isn't there some other way to be happy? For me to... be a male?" 

Mandy - his sister Christyne's friend, appeared directly in front of him, and also spoke in a ghosting manner. "Science has proven that the brain's gender is determined at the twelfth week of gestation - for a human being of course - therefore trying to cure it is to try and cut a person's brain out. It's scientific fact." 

Suddenly, she was gone, and his sister Christyne was right next to him, holding his face up. "If you are a duck, you cannot bark like a dog. If you are a woman, you cannot be a man." 

"But... isn't it immoral?" 

Then Demeter was to his right, also speaking in ghostly tones. "What kind of Goddess would create us, male and female alike, give us these kinds of problems, and then ask us to sit in the middle of the lake and do nothing? No, She expects us to pick up whatever She has placed in that boat, and expect us to use it, be it oars, outboard motor, or a child's canoe paddle. She will not abandon us or strand us." 

Shayde was there again. "Your hips swivel like a woman, you are kind and gentle, cook, clean, and sew. You nuture the young, you have a desire to be a clan mother like any other female of your rookery, you express yourself wonderfully with words, and you use your hands. You don't cuss, your sensitive and gentle, you use whole words instead of contractions, you don't give in to Machismo, you treat women as equals, and you only seem to get along with females..." 

"Then why take me to all this length? Why all the hoopla?" 

The room reappeared, and Iolair spun back around to see Circe facing him. "Because you would not learn this lesson on your own." 

Demeter glanced at him, and smirked in a self-satisfied way. "I told you so." her look said. 

"There is one other option." Iolair said. 

"Oh?" Circe inquired. 

"You said no man may come to your island, therefore you must kill me." Iolair concluded. 

"That is NOT what I said." Circe retorted, in a very Fay-like manner. The Fay were always so particular about how things are worded. Demeter suddenly tensed, realization opening her eyes. 

"Uh oh..." 

  
  


Iolair was suddenly thrown backwards against a wall with a sound like a hundred lightning crashes. Demeter reacted instantly, shouting her brother's name, and tried to reach out and help him, but she found herself frozen, unable to move, and trapped in one corner of the room. 

Iolair's body was encased in light, and he began to thrash about and scream. His body was tense, energy coursed throughout his body. The sounds of cracking bones were heard, and the sickening sound of human flesh being torn apart. Demeter could only do one thing - she screamed in horror! 

Then, all at once, as suddenly as it began, all was silent, and all light disappeared. 

  
  


  
  


The room was dark, and so Demeter could not see anyone. Worst of all, it was silent - and that was what bothered Demeter the most when she found herself conscious once again. Using her magic she produced her flashlight once more, and began scanning the room for any sign of life. Even her other gargoyle senses did her no good. 

Beyond the range of her lamp, she began to hear a sound - the soft muffled sound of a girl crying and sniffling in the cave. Bewildered, Demeter slowly turned her light to face the source of the sound. 

A gargoyle lay there, one Demeter had never seen before, and was positive had not been there before. Her body seemed to have steam or smoke rising from it, as though it were cooling from being very hot. The female was soft green in color - the light green of a mint plant growing the forest, with golden blonde tresses that reached her waist. She was young - about 21 as a human reckons age. The other gargoyle raised her paw in the air, and a globe of light appeared, and Demeter could see the other fully. She was pretty. Demeter felt a tinge of feminine jealousy well up within her, but she quickly repressed it. The girl was well rounded and filled out in all the places a female should. 

When she looked up at Demeter, her tears stopped. Demeter knelt down in front of her. 

"D... Demeter?" she asked, uncertain. Her voice was a strong soprano, with a melodic quality. 

Realization quickly dawned on Demeter. 

  
  


"Iolair?" she asked. 

  
  


The two companions hugged each other, the former Iolair sobbing some more. Demeter was at a lost for words. 

"You... you finally got what you wanted, didn't you?" 

"Yes." she replied. 

"Wha... What do I call you now?" 

The other was silent for a moment, thinking. She stood, and helped Demeter to her feet. "I shall take the name Tigris, after the lover that I lost. Tigris Euphrates. May I be the female I wish she could have been." 

Demeter found it a very romantic gesture. "Okay... Tigris. How do you feel?" 

Tigris, as she had chosen to be called, touched her healthy bosom, a little nervously. "My... breasts... they ache." 

Demeter threw her head back and laugh uproariously. "Considering the fact you didn't have them a minute or two ago, that's to be expected!" 

Up went a loud cheer. Light came on from some unknown place, as the two female gargoyles found themselves before the crowd of human natives once again. Circe was no where to be seen, but this was - after all - nothing unusual for a fay. 

"SISTERS OF CIRCE! SISTERS OF CIRCE!" the cave-women chanted, forming an aisle for the two gargoyles to walk down, towards the exits, all chanting and waving excitedly, 

"There's just one thing I don't understand." Tigris commented. 

"What's that?" 

"I half expected I would wind up as a pig." 

"I don't think Circe's magic works that way." Demeter replied thoughtfully. "It's like the Eye of Odin. I think she makes people more like themselves. Even a demi-God can't make you something you're not." 

Tigris blushed - in a distinctly feminine way. "Thank you - you are... very pretty too. No wonder - in the end - Tigris and I broke up." 

"Deep down inside, you were both women." Demeter concluded. "Women looking for fulfillment..." 

"...From a male." Tigris concluded her train of thought. "Do you know something? I always wanted to be your mate." 

"Me? Why?" 

"I don't know. You made me feel the most like a female, I think." 

"I just respected you for who you were." Demeter replied. "But then I married Death Wing." 

Tigris nodded. "But now, we've solved the problem." 

Tigris and Demeter looked at each other for a long time. "Sometimes I remember wishing - selfishly to myself - that you would remain male, and that I could help you be a male. However, I knew in my heart it was hopeless. It is better we were friends, like this..." Demeter's voice trailed off. 

Tigris reached over to his companion, offering a paw. "Sisters?" 

Demeter smiled, and clasped her paw in Tigris's. "Sisters!" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


It had been a year since their original departure from the clan, as their return trip had to be back to the stop they had originally left the realm of fairy, or else it would take years and years traveling across the realms of fairy which are so much larger, to return to the right place. 

Christyne appeared and looked critically at the new female companion Demeter had. "We have GOT to do something with your hair." 

Tigris smiled broadly, hugging her sister tightly. Christyne only smiled. 

The minty green female was presented to her other sister Keturah and her mother Tutela. Keturah seemed to think her sibling had joined an elite club, and began filling her on all sorts of "finer points". Tutela picked up on this same thought, teaching her gargoyle daughter all the things she would have taught her if she were many years younger. 

  
  


  
  


There was no fanfare when they returned to their home in the realm of the fairy. Upon hearing the calls of the two gargoyles returning home, most of them came out... 

...to welcome Demeter back. 

While crowds of friends gathered around the lovely green healer gargoyle, Tigris Euphrates simply stood on the outskirts of the merriment, happy for her. Demeter's mate, Death Wing, came rushing up to her, and they tightly embraced. A thousand emotions cascaded through Tigris's eyes at that moment, as a tear fell from her eye. 

She turned, wordlessly, away from them all, folding her wings about her. 

Walking down the tower steps, she heard someone rushing up the same steps towards her. The two gargoyles stopped, looking at one another. 

"Oh!" the other exclaimed. "I... I know you, don't I?" 

"...'Sid?" Tigris breathed. "Obsidiana?" 

The other touched Tigris's golden lochs. The other's face was a mask of concentration. "Can... Can it be?" 

Tigris smiled. "Yes, it can!" 

Obsidiana giggled excitedly in her thick Latino accept. "It **IS** you! I'd know those blue eyes anywhere! Iolair! Mi amiga! Mi hermana!" Sisters fell into one another's arms, holding each other tight. 

Leading her forward, Obsidiana nearly pulled Tigris out, back onto the roof of the tower. She raised both of their paws into the air and shouted a single word. "IOLAIR!" 

Some of the others in the crowd milling about Demeter turned to each other, and as if remembering the name for the first time, asked each other. "Oh... yeah... where is - what's-his-name?" Their eyes would then fall upon Obsidiana and Tigris standing upon the tower. For a long minute, there was silence... 

Which then turned to laughter. Demeter, Obsidiana, Lex, and a few other friends looked around at the others with contempt as they began to yell. 

"Go back to the humans, pervert!" 

"We're supposed to be setting an example for humanity!" 

"Yeah - not stooping to their level!" 

"If you wanted to have sex with males, why didn't you just be gay?" 

"Can't you just deal with it and be a man?" 

"It's a great thing to be a man." 

"Why didn't you just ask Xanatos? I'm sure he would have given you a sex change!" 

Wordlessly, shoulders slumped in defeat, Tigris Euphrates, turned, and with a mournful cry, glided away from the castle. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Five gargoyles gathered around Tigris, trying to comfort her and dry her tears. They were Obsidiana, Lex, Lysander, Demeter, and Jade. Tigris was telling her story amidst fits of tears. 

"Do you feel better?" 

Tigris smiled. "Yes! Not different... just... it's like a weight has been lifted off of me. I feel free! You know... like I've come home." 

The girls all smiled. There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" One of the girls shouted. 

One of the males, named Gate, opened the door. 

"Hey girls!" He said cheerfully. "Am I interrupting?" 

They all looked at each other. "No." they generally answered. 

"Tigris?" He asked. 

Everyone looked at her. She stood, dressed in a long tunic with a skirt. "Yes?" 

"Look, I want to apologize for them... they have this idea that you... get off on being a girl or something. I wanted to tell you that I don't think so - I think your a pretty woman... and I think you're okay." 

She giggled, "Thank you..." 

Gate smiled, and left, closing the door behind her. 

One of the girls leaned into the circle, giggling. "As if a lot of **them** haven't spent time as girls!" 

Laughter filled the room. 

  
  


  
  


Having sorted through the hundreds of outfits made for gargoyle girls, the small consortium of females had seen to it that Iolair's entire wardrobe had been exchanged for something more properly suiting a gargoyle girl's - citing their determination that no female would wear a male breechcloth if THEY could help it. 

Climbing onto the balustrade, she prepared herself to sleep. The males clustered together on the other side of the castle, and she could hear a few of them snickering. The females, however, were silently supportive of her. She was dressed in a halter top and small breechcloth for the greatest freedom of movement in battle. 

Although her greatest battles, it appeared, would be on the clanfront. 

  
  


As Tigris turned to stone, however, she did not realize she was being watched from outside the castle. There among, the trees, two fay whispered to one another among the trees. 

  
  


**Several days later**

  
  


"Let me bring you up to speed on some of the things that have occurred during your absence." The dragon-king of the Miniclan said, motioning to a map on one wall. "An encampment of what appears to be Demona's war-clan, and possibly others that we do not recognize. Recognizance has not been easy, as their spell-casters are very effective in keeping out intruders. What little we have learned has been through using science, instead." 

"They are treating this like a siege." Satana - the queen - continued. "Just waiting for us to make one wrong move so that they can strike. It appears to me that Tigris is among them. The other Tigris." 

Tigris Euphrates straightened, surprised. "It's revenge she's after, then?" 

Lex stepped forward and spoke. "She accuses you of deceiving her." 

Demeter humped. "Does one dishonor deserve another? Do two wrongs make a right?" 

"I'm guessing she doesn't know I'm back yet, does she?" Tigris inquired. 

"No, otherwise I expect we would have heard from her by now." Gorebash replied. 

"Then, it's safe to assume that she doesn't know that Cassandra's spell has been broken, or that I'm now..." Tigris trailed off, making a circular motion with her talons. 

"Our concern is how they are going to react if they DO find out - not that I plan on letting them know any time soon." 

"They could attack at any time now, if they only knew..." One of the male clan leaders said. 

"I disagree - I think Tigris's return gives us an ace-in-the-hole, if we play our cards correctly." Another said. 

"Things being how they are, we can't possibly predict how they are going to react." Satana waved them off. 

"What's the point to all this?" Tigris inquired. 

"That's the one thing we HAVE learned about them." The dragon-king replied, "They're arming for war with the Miniclan." 

Tigris's jaw dropped. 

  
  


  
  


"I still don't see why we have to go to war for hi- her!" 

"Yeah, we didn't do anything to make this clan mad at us, let Tigris fight her own battles." 

Various clan members, male and female alike, disagreed on the intent of the malicious clan besieging their borders. 

"Are we a clan, or a colony? When one of us is in danger, we all our! True gargoyles stand up for each other, and that's what we should do!" another protested! 

"Yeah!" agreed yet another, "Mess with one of us, you mess with us all!" 

"Listen to us!" Disagreed another, "We are squabbling like a bunch of humans! Can't we settle our problems more diplomatically? We are, after all, supposed to be setting an example for the humans, and we have plenty of humans right here in Castle Gorebash." 

"Yeah! I say we put together an envoy to go talk to them! We can tell them this much of the truth, at least - that Iolair is never coming back!" 

"Yes! Then they might leave us alone!" 

"Who's with me?" 

"I am!" 

"I am!" 

"I am!" The gargoyles exclaimed. Some flocked to the balustrade to carry out their plan, while others stayed behind, defending their home. 

  
  


They Miniclan envoy stayed well outside the confines of the enemy camp, just waiting peacefully. The camp knew they were there of course, and after a minute or two, a few of the enemy camp welcomed the envoy forward into their midst. 

"We have come to parlay. We should be above these human games, and have come to settle this before the blood of our own kind is spilt." The Miniclan envoy proclaimed. 

"We have come for the blood of Iolair! He has dishonored one of ours, and has therefore dishonored our whole clan!" said the leader of the other clan. 

One of the Miniclan, who had suggested the idea of a peace envoy in the first place, a skinny blue male named Deneb, stood forward, taking the lead. He was one of the clan leaders, so the envoy deferred to him. He was met with a bulkier looking male of about the same color, and they clasped each other's wrists in the Gargoyle way. 

"I am Deneb, an elder of the Miniclan." 

"I am Steve, a friend of Tigris. Come, sit around our fire." 

In a circle around the fire, the gargoyles sat with one half being from the Miniclan, the other a clan watched over by a fay named Cassandra, and therefore called their clan after her. The others let Deneb do most of the talking - as he had the most experience at this sort of thing. 

"As you can see, we are an honorable clan - we do not often go out seeking the blood of anyone unless one of ours was seriously offended." Steve said, motioning to his clan. 

"I am not here to attempt to dissuade you either, Steve." Deneb said. "But to talk. We have news." He looked at the fire, stirring it slightly. "Demeter returned from her quest, and Iolair was not with her. It appears Iolair will never return here." 

There was a stunned silence among Cassandra's clan. 

"He probably knows the shame of his actions." One of Cassandra's clan spoke up. 

"No! He runs from his responsibility!" 

"Hear hear! Dishonor!" 

Deneb allowed their shouts to die down a little before he said anything further. 

"Take a message to your clan leader!" Steve ordered Deneb. "I find your clan's actions dishonorable! Was he, or was he not a member of your clan?" 

"He was." Deneb said, holding his chin high. 

"...And now you abandon him?" 

"To prevent the shedding of blood? Yes!" Deneb countered. 

"You have no honor! You abandon one of your own!" Steve turned to his warriors. "The Miniclan! The Miniclan! To war!" 

"Dishonor! Dishonor!" their shouts went up. 

Deneb turned. "I think we ought not to be here now. We may have just made things worse." With that, Deneb led them away. 

  
  


  
  


A row of gargoyle stood with a variety of weapons under the waning crescent of a moon atop the balustrade, watching and waiting. They suspected their foe would know better than to attack from the direction of the camp - that was too obvious - and so guarded their home on every side. Some carried spears, some carried swords, some carried bows. Among them, Tigris carried her magical stave, and a bow slung across her back. At her side, Demeter stood with stave and dagger in paw, waiting. 

"I shouldn't be putting the clan through this." Tigris Euphrates was sighing. 

"It's not about you and your former mate Tigris anymore." The current clan leader, Lex, was saying. "It's about honor. They see us as responsible for you and your actions." 

"Why don't I simply surrender myself to them?" Tigris offered. 

"That will do absolutely no good." Demeter cut in. "They are looking for vengeance not justice, and then line between the two is hard to see and easy to cross. Besides, they won't recognize you anymore. They are blinded by this anger and hatred that some have for a person in your condition, just African Americans were hated by whites - before the enlightenment and the turning of the ages." 

"How did they win respect?" 

"By standing up for themselves." Lex replied. "That is what this battle is truly about. We stand by you as a clan, and as a clan we shall make a difference." 

"Friend! Friend!" another gargoyle hollered, gliding in towards them. "I have grave news!" Lex stiffened. The messenger, a young silvery female, knelt once before Lex, before standing again. "Clan leader! Some of our warriors have joined the other side!" 

"What?!!!" Lex asked, furious. Her small frame suddenly rigid. She was a short tan female with under-arm wings, but a fiery disposition. "Why?" 

"They will not fight for our Tigris, accusing her of immorality." 

Tigris wanted to melt into the spaces between the paving stones. 

Lex held up a paw. "No! Let it be known - to everyone in this castle, gargoyle, fay, and human alike! The Castle Gorebash will stand for equal right for everyone! Anyone who cannot respect a person for who they are, leave here at once!" 

The silvery female bowed again, and went racing into the bowels of the castle to inform the king. 

Lex turned to Tigris and winked. "Don't worry - I suspected this was coming. After all - you aren't the only one here who has some different... tastes." 

Demeter looked at Tigris and smiled. They shared a mischievous look. 

  
  


  
  


The attack came from the other side of the castle, and the Miniclan was ready. Lex's first order was that Tigris Euphrates remain at the rear, by Lex and other figures of authority - which would be the goal of the attackers. 

All of the gargoyles who supported them were at the front line - none of them showed any fear. Unfortunately, the same was also true of Cassandra's clan, and it became obvious early in the fight that the cost of victory would be very high for either side. 

Tigris, with her trained eye, was able to sit in the background with her bow and pick off airborn gargoyles that would come within her range, and she was fairly quick on the trigger. Lex gave marching orders, reinforcing different parts of their front when she predicted they would be needed. Even the king, the dragon Gorebash, was involved in the battle. He supported Lex's position as an elder member of her clan, and was a formidable ally. 

Tigris's friend Demeter was busy helping the wounded. Her expertise was in healing, and many of her young acolytes were at her side, helping tend for the injuries of war. Tigris was deeply upset at the hurt that was being inflicted on gargoyles of both sides on her behalf. She had to find a way to end this... 

Suddenly Tigris looked away, turning to Lex. "I have an idea!" 

  
  


  
  


In a field in the middle of the battle, Tigris Euphrates stood on the ground, stave in hand, raised up towards the enemy. "TIGRIS! CHARGE OF CASSANDRA! COME AND FACE ME!" 

The battle was stilled - a challenge had been made to settle the battle with far less loss of life - that was quite enough for warriors on both sides. 

All at once, Steve was before her. Tigris Euphrates recognized him instantly. 

"Hello Steve, it's been a while, hasn't it?" she said cheerfully. 

"Do I... know you, warrioress?"he inquired, baffled, sword in hand, ready to face her. 

She raised her stave above her head, letting the magic spiral about it. It was a nice effect, actually, Lex thought, standing nearby. "I too am Tigris, named for the love I lost, and of which you are here today." 

Steve stepped aside, as the blue female with arm-wings came running forward. A head or two taller than Lex, it was obvious that this was Iolair's former mate. 

"IOLAIR! IS THAT YOU?" She demanded, shortsword in her paw, Steve standing at her side. 

Chin held high, the former male replied, "Yes." 

"And now you've taken MY name?" 

"I take it in remembrance of the love we hav... had together. That love which I still have for you." 

The old Tigris walked around her, examining her critically. "What mockery of nature is this?" 

"It is none of my choosing, but the work of one far wiser than I." the other woman replied. 

"You've simply indulged your fantasies!" the natural-born female replied, slapping the other Tigris across the face. Lines of blood were left behind on the former male's face. 

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" Came Lex's voice, "STAND UP FOR YOURSELF." 

Tigris Euphrates's eyes were aglow with red fire, as she brought her stave up to attack the other. The original Tigris sheathed her shortsword, and picked up another stave, to meet the other with her own weapon. 

"Challenge me!" 

Staves clashed with a snap, and the battle had begun. Without even trying, Tigris Euphrates's stave began to charge with magic at the angry contact, and as the two pressed together, their energy crackling. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! The sticks made contact with each other as the two angry gargoyles fought for their clans. 

"I loved you!" The former Iolair protested. 

"You tricked me!" 

Cassandra's Tigris snapped her tail underneath the other gargoyle's legs, but the other avoided it deftly. 

"Is it deception when I, too, was not aware of it? It's not as if I didn't tell you!" 

"You never told me you were gay!" 

The other Tigris hissed in fury. "I am NOT gay!" Her spear crackled with energy, she slung her stave at the other and hit her. It was not a hard enough blow to really hurt her, but it was enough to cast her spell. 

While the under-arm winged gargoyle was frozen in place by the other's spell, the Miniclan's Tigris circled her, talking. 

"I wish I had the power to turn you into a male. Then you'd know exactly what it's like to feel like a female trapped in the body of a male, but the first thing a sorceress learns is what is beyond the reach of magic. You cannot create a 'y' chromosome out of nothing, so it would be impossible. You have to believe I never meant to harm you in any way, and for what I did there can be no recompense. I can stand here and say I'm sorry only so many times! What more would you have of me?" 

"I will not rest until you are dead!" 

"Then will you leave my clan alone?" 

"I have no quarrel with them." 

"Then we have a pact, then? I will not resist you, and you will retreat from this battle? I will lay down my life and you will spare theirs?" 

"Yes." she agreed. With that, she found she could move again, and they grasped each other's wrists in the gargoyle way. Tigris Euphrates laid down her stave, and knelt before her former mate. In rage and fury, the other Tigris unsheathed her broadsword, prepared to smote off the head of her lover. 

Suddenly, there was a thud, and a flash of light. However, when Tigris Euphrates looked up, finding herself perfectly intact still, she looked up in horror to see her lover's eyes wide with horror. An arrow protruded from her chest. 

"I, HOWEVER, AM NOT BOUND BY YOUR PACT." Came a female voice that seemed to come from everywhere. Tigris Euphrates was stunned and petrified as her former mate fell to the ground, dead. 

The gargoyles looked around, searching the night for the source of the voice and the arrow. 

"YOUNG TIGRIS OF THE CLAN OF CASSANDRA, YOUR HEART HAS BEEN BLACKENED BY THE DARKNESS AND EVIL OF VENGEANCE. YOU HAVE BROKEN YOUR VOW OF LOVE TO MY SISTER, AND HAVE BROKEN YOUR VOW OF PROTECTION TO ALL GARGOYLES. FOR THAT, LAY YOU DEAD BY MY PAW - NEVER AGAIN TO REAWAKEN!" 

Above the battlefield, a ghosting shape began to emerge. Three times her normal size, a pink female gargoyle wearing a crown and deer leathers hovered in the air, bow in hand, facing the young females at the center of the battle. Her voice still seemed to come from everywhere, reverberating in the bones of everyone present. Her body seemed to glow with white fire, and her hair seemed to fly in a non-existent wind. 

"MY DEAR SISTER WHOM I LOVE, TIGRIS IS RIGHT, YOU DID DECEIVE HER BY NOT TELLING HER THE WHOLE TRUTH." the figure accused Tigris Euphrates, pointing a talon at her. 

"Christine..." the mortal gargoyle whispered. 

The enormous gargoyle turned to Cassandra's clan. "CASSANDRA MAY BE A FAVORED CHILD OF OBERON, BUT SHE IS NOT ABOVE THIS DISHONORABLE BEHAVIOR. YOU SHAME YOUR KEEPER, AND YOUR KEEPER SHAMES YOU ALL BEFORE HER FATHER. SEEK NO MORE TO MAKE WAR AGAINST MY SISTER." 

Finally, Lady Christyne turned to the Miniclan, but said nothing. Instead, she just waved one paw in their direction. Instantly, injured, wounded, and deceased on both sides were healed or came to life, completely restored. That is, all but the other Tigris whom Christyne had slain. 

In a brilliant light, the large gargoyle vanished, leaving behind only the cry of gargoyle warrior. 

"Jalapeña!" Lex exclaimed. 

  
  


  
  


With a totally unreadable expression on her face, Tigris Euphrates sat in the room that she and her lover had once shared, starting mindlessly at the floor, when a three-toed foot suddenly appeared in her range of sight. Following it up to it's owner, Tigris found herself face to face with her sister Christyne. 

With a tear in Tigris's eyes, and without a word, they embraced. Tigris began to cry helplessly and uncontrollably. Christyne just stroked her sister's blonde curls, and making shushing noises. "I know, I know..." 

"She... she wanted to kill me." 

"I was hoping it would not end this way, but it seems that Tigris too had another side to her. She had a dark, vengeful streak in her that only had to be aggravated. Kind of like Demona." Looking her in the eyes, she continued. "You've been through enough, but it's always going to be a battle to make people accept you for who you are. You can't please all the people all the time. However, you will always be my sister. Just call for my help next time, and I'll be right here to defend you. You'll always be my younger sister, and my love for you is not dependent on what gender you are." Tigris leaned into her shoulder, bawling. Christine went on. "You WILL find a mate who will love you for you, and lay at least four eggs. Each of them will be female." she prophesied. "The blood of a true woman flows through your veins." 

"Are you sure?" Tigris asked uncertainly. 

"I have foreseen it." Chistyne explained. 

  
  


  
  


The dreamer watched the sun rise over the forest beyond the castle walls. She could remember the sun from her youth, but missed seeing it waking, and wondered if she would ever see it again. 

It was a moment before the dreamer realized she was not alone on the parapets. A hand touched her shoulder, and her body was suddenly filled with an electric fire she'd never felt in her entire life. She turned, to find a dark colored male holding her shoulders. She turned about to talk to him, thinking to herself how much he looked like her sister's mate in waking, Phantom. The dreamer then felt ashamed when she realized she lusted after her sister's mate. 

The more she looked at him, though, she felt a desire building in her more intense and strange than anything she had every felt. There was a great emptiness inside her soul, and gaping hole that needed to be filled. She needed him to fill her. She felt him wrap his wings around her, protecting her. She loved the electric shocks that went through her skin the moment he touched her. His talons gently began to circle the tip of her breasts. Lights began to dance before her eyes. The sun began to fill her body with a searing heat. Her breathing became deep, as she felt herself falling, falling into his ministrations. Her senses were awash as his lips met hers... 

  
  


  
  


Christyne smirked in satisfaction. She touched the stone figure next to her on the parapet, feeling the stone of her sister as it warmed with the rising dawn, and watched it turn to opaque white crystal under her touch. 

She felt a twinge of anxiety - Tigris was alarmed. "Oh, sis... just relax. You're about to experience one of the glories of being a young lady." 


	9. Angels In the Night

Writing begun on: January 25, 2000   
Writing completed on: January 31, 2000   
This version is current as of: February 29, 2000

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, though it does contain some mild sexual innuendo and some mild language. I WOULD rate it as G, except for the honeymoon scene which paints some very unsaid images. The story does contain transgendered themes, which means one or more characters may change gender. If you are offended by this idea, you may want to not read on. I would recommend it be rated PG. 

U2 gets the song credit for the words to "With or Without You". "All I Ask of You" is also from the Phantom of the Opera. Lastly, Princess Jasmine and Thundra's phrases like "Loco Scientifico" belongs to the Disney Afternoon cartoon Aladdin, and for those who don't follow Gargoyles, Aladdin used to air right before Gargoyles on the Disney Afternoon, which should be all you need to catch the jokes/references. 

  
  


**DEDICATED TO**

Lanea "Sharm" Zimmerman 

and the other Dreamweavers: Rachel J. Mahnken and Elizabeth aka "Addersting". 

  
  


  
  


**May our relationship someday rest in peace.**

**May we find it in our hearts to forgive one another.**

  
  


  
  


**Salt Lake City, Utah**

**January, 2020**

  
  


The storm had been brewing for hours, but when it finally touched ground, it's impact was sudden. Snow flurries filled the air in minutes, and within an hour the highway was covered in snow. The trucks and cars ploughed their way through regardless, some slowing, others speeding by as if there were nothing amiss. Night fell, and in the darkness the snow redoubled. 

It was a skier's heaven - Steve deduced, but a trucker's nightmare. From his vantage point it was all the four-wheeled vehicles that were cutting him off and whizzing by him as he crawled cautiously through the snow storm. He was angry and frustrated at them and his company too - his dispatcher had made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that if he was late on a load again, he would be fired, and this weather was making him very late for his delivery. Steve was having a very bad night, and constant whine of the diesel engine was making his teeth grind. He worried about his teenage daughter at home, too. He was starting to nod off to sleep, and he could not let himself fall asleep at the wheel. 

However, he wasn't going to get much sleep anytime soon, this night. He felt his rig jolt forward with a loud crunch, and a flash of sparks in the night in his rear view mirrors. 

"Oh, no way! No way..." he muttered to himself as he pulled the red and white classic Kenworth onto the shoulder, pulled the air brake, and swung down onto the ground to see what had happened. The rear of the trailer on his eighteen wheeler was bent, but relatively unharmed, but a small commuter lay down the road behind him, crumpled and on fire. 

"HELP! HELP!" 

Steve's eyes went wide. Startled, adrenaline flowing, he rushed down from his cab, grabbed his fire extinguisher and toolbox from the driver's side compartment, and ran to the burning car. 

Steve was the kind of guy who believed in the Trucker's Code of Honor, and in other such ancient myths like Chivalry. If you told him Truckers were all mean and evil bastards, he'd probably punch you in the jaw, but if you had a flat tire, he'd make sure you got home safely. Make sure to hold the door open for the ladies. You always respect the bikers, and let them ride your wake, and they'll flush out the fuzz for you to make sure you got home on time without a ticket. Above all, always - when he saw someone on the side of the road who needed help, he helped! 

With more enthusiasm than was probably warranted, Steve broke in the window with the butt of the fire extinguisher. Inside the car he could make out a man and a woman, screaming because of the flames. They were trapped by the flames on the one side, and by a crumpled door on the other. The air Steve let in simply fanned the flames, but Steve struggled to get the door open. He couldn't use the fire extinguisher - not yet! Not until he got those people out of there! It could asphyxiate them in a car this small! Using the screwdriver from his toolbox, Steve worked on the latch trying to pry it open unsuccessfully. One was melted and would never unlock again, and the other was crushed beyond recognition! The flames were starting to spill out of the side of the hood now, and the lady in the passenger seat had passed out from fright. Steve had to do something! That woman would die soon! The man in the car didn't look too good either - he had a big gash on the side of his face - he had been driving, and it was the driver's side which they had tried to bury under his tandem axle. Steve began to sweat. What could he do? 

A familiar cry reached his ears - not one of the humans screaming - but a sound he knew all too well from Salt Lake City, the sound of a panther's snarl, or a monster's cry to battle. 

Steve didn't have time to react, he was pushed aside in a matter of moments as someone snarled like a tiger, and with a swipe of razor sharp talons, ripped the smashed locking mechanism right off the car's door. The figure pulled on the door, and it still wouldn't open. Steve looked up, and in the flash of headlights from another car on the freeway, he could make out a young woman with long blonde curls, as well as large leathery wings and tail. 

A gargoyle! 

She didn't waste any time, though. When the lock continued to do it's original design purpose, she took hold of the car door on both sides, and pulled. It stripped away from the car like tearing a paper poster from a wall. Steve's jaw dropped. She reached into the car, grabbing hold of both humans. The flames were starting to billow now, spilling out of all corners and regions of the small car. 

"The fuel tank!" Steve shouted in realization. 

The gargoyle had lifted the two humans out of the vehicle, and made a mad dash into the hills with them, running through feet of snow like it were mere smoke. There, she deposited the two humans, and spread snow on the female to make sure her skin cooled. Then she turned back to the car. 

There was a tremendous thudding sound, the ground rocked, and the air reverberated. There was a flash of light, and the bits and pieces of the car began to fly everywhere. The truck driver had been thrown backwards by the blast into the street. He screamed, flailing in the air. He saw the road go past him, and then headlights coming from the other direction...! 

There was a snapping sound and he felt a crushing tightness around his belt. He looked up in time to catch the sight of minty green flesh, blonde hair, and the shape of women's breasts wrapped in animal hide. Steve fainted. 

  
  


Tigris Euphrates wiped the sweat from her brow. She felt good. 

  
  


  
  


The medical examiner found the victims of the wreck, as well as the driver of the semi they had rear ended, laying unconscious in the snow several hundred feet away from the road in the snow. A police deputy approached her, a fairly nondescript Latino man in his late forties. "Found them?" 

"They'll be fine after some time. Both drivers are here and one passenger." she replied. She was a woman in her late twenties with an air of educated sophistication around her. 

"How'd they get way out here?" 

She pointed to some tracks in the snow. "Look!" 

The police deputy shined his flashlight on the tracks. He saw three pairs of prints - his, the medical examiner's and some odd three-toed marks from looked like a very heavy beast - or a beast carrying people? 

The two officers looked at one another. "Gargoyles!" 

  
  


*** Wednesday, January 8, 2020 ***

  
  


"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" shouted the trio, consisting of two gargoyles and a human - Phantom, Christyne, and Mandy. They were holding up a large ice-cream cake decked out eight candles, some were lit, some were not. 

Startled, Tigris Euphrates jumped backwards on the newly tiled marble floorway. She laughed. "Wow! Thanks you guys!" 

Christyne opened her arms, and took up her middle sister into them. Phantom set the cake on the table, and began dicing it out into blue china bowls. 

"What's with the candles?" Tigris inquired. 

"It's binary." Christyne explained. "It means thirty-six." 

"Oh, thanks a lot. I sure hope I don't LOOK that old!" 

"At least you don't look your real age!" Mandy protested, who was really starting to show all of her 44 years. "You only LOOK eighteen!" 

"Yeah, but finally turning eighteen is a big thing." Phantom said. "You can be legally prosecuted as an adult." 

"Hah hah. It only took me thirty years to get here." Tigris replied with excitement, sampling the ice cream in her cake. "Mmmmmm! Orange cream swirl!" 

"Let's not forget presents!" announced a new voice. From the other room came Keturah - a human with the wings and hair of a falcon, holding a small box in her hands. It looked like she'd somehow had her nails done just for the occasion, because she was being very careful not to bump them. 

"No way! What did you guys do?!!!" Tigris exclaimed with excitement, hugging her little sister triumphantly. 

Tigris quickly deposed of Keturah's lovely wrapping job, and found herself looking at a small jewelry case. She lifted the lid, and say the most exquisite diamond necklace she had ever seen. 

"Oooooh my... this must have cost a fortune! Did you use the Internet?" 

"Actually, let's just say I pulled in some favors." Christyne smirked in a self-satisfied way. 

Tigris looked sympathetically over at Keturah, who was thirty, but didn't look it. She didn't see how her sister and Mandy could stand coming to these birthday parties, when they only demonstrated that they were getting older, and their friends weren't - at least, not as fast. Yet, here they were, time and time again, valiant as ever. She loved them. "What on earth would I ever do without you guys?" she sighed. "Where's Sharm? Away on business?" 

There were some uncomfortable looks and an uncomfortable silence. 

"Did I... say something wrong...?" she began to stutter. 

"Oh, no nothing like that." Mandy interrupted her. 

"Honey, you have to understand Sharm was raised back in the swords and chivalry days." Christyne attempted to explain. "She feels... uncomfortable, being around you." 

Tigris hung her head. "What your saying is - in the nicest way possible - that she hates me." 

Christyne and Phantom looked at each other, and they exchanged one of those incomprehensible looks. "Well no, she... she just..." 

No one dared to speak. They knew better. 

Tigris sighed. "May I... take a short walk? I'll be right back..." She stood up, leaving her bowl where it was on the glass table, and walked out of the room, leaving the party in icy silence. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Care to talk, sis?" Keturah's voice was confident, but gentle - exactly what Tigris needed right now. 

She had been crying, Ket noticed that right off. Tigris was sitting on a railing which surrounded a glass chamber, in which a bight yellow light pulsed and glowed. It had pipes leading to it from the ceiling and floor, and there were several little glass tubes leading from the chamber in the center, which seemed to be filled with little strands of yellow plasma flowing along it's length. It was a power reactor made from interacting magics, captured with the power of science. One of the latest of Christyne's crazy creation when they had started pulling too much power from the city of Salt Lake. In fact, Tigris's old friend Obsidiana had a running joke going with Christyne which Chrissy herself found highly annoying. Whenever Obsidiana saw Christyne, she would refer to her as "Miss Loco Scientifico" (Ms. Mad Scientist) in her lovely Spanish, and Tigris LOVED to giggle along with her Guatemalan friend. 

Tigris stared at it with a sad and morose look on her face. "I just miss her, that's all. I miss her terribly." she sighed, referring to Sharm. 

"I understand. I miss some of my friends from back home in Park City, but I can't just stroll down and see them anymore than you can. How am I ever supposed to meet someone when I'm like this?" Keturah encouraged her, seating herself beside her sister. "Look on the bright side. Your happier, aren't you? You found your inner peace! I think I did." 

Tigris nodded, looking into her little sister's eyes, well sort of. Keturah had grown older than Tigris, now that Tigris aged at only half the rate she did. 

It had would not be long now that it would be ten years since Tigris had joined the fairer sex, which she knew to be the cause of Sharm's distant behavior. Tigris had not been home much in the last ten years, traveling, seeing the world, and having a variety of adventures. She spent time with other clans, and helped save lives. Was she happier? By far! For the first time in her life, she loved to look at her face in the mirror or in a lake and toss her hair around. For the first time since her transformation into Gargoyledom back in the big adventures of 1996 and 1998, she felt that she once again had purpose and meaning to her life. 

Why then, was she still fighting her own loneliness? 

Perhaps Sharm was right, and she was running from that problem too, Tigris reasoned. How does one go about solving THAT problem? For some reasons she was still itching for something... something quite beyond her grasp of comprehending. 

"Yes, I'm much happier, sis - I have a reason to go on living, which is something I think... I may never have really ever had before in my life. Still, though, I feel... lonely." 

Keturah threw her head back and chuckled at this remark. "Hah! You think I'm getting old now, you and Christine'll be squeezing out eggs until I'm seventy - and Mandy is eighty!" she paused and did a little mental math in her head. "...Almost ninety! You've got more than enough time to find... someone." 

"I still watch Christyne with envy, though." she admitted. "Is that wrong?" 

"Of course not. I envy her too! She's on - what - her fifth child right now? A sixth down in the rookery? How does she do it, I wonder? She's STARTING a clan to guard this city - on her own! I was born a woman, and I still envy all the things she does." Keturah waved it off. "Besides - SHE'S eternally locked as a twenty-five year old. I squandered my life living with dad... and now I'll be lucky if I find someone within the next ten years." 

Tigris stood, and embraced his little sister, who trembled a little in her arms. "I'll be fine," she reassured Keturah, "I just need to find Sharm and talk to her about... all this." 

Ket pulled on her sister's hand, and pulled her to a bench by the wall where they sat, and watched the lightshow for a minute. 

Tigris spoke. "Do you remember my first period?" 

Keturah laughed, like remembering an old joke. "Yep." 

It had been a rather humorous event. One day, six years before, Tigris had a bad stomach flu one morning before going to sleep, and then noticed blood on her loincloth after waking in the evening, panicked, and went over to see her mother Tutela and sister Christine. She had been screaming and hollering about being sick and was going to die, but Tutela and Christine just looked at the leather and chortled. They had never let her live that day down. 

"Remember what Christine said?" Tigris asked. "That having periods was the first of three things that make a woman a woman, right?" 

Keturah nodded. "Mother told me that when I had my first, and I think she told Christine too." 

"Well, I've come to the conclusion that it's just not true." 

"Why?" 

"What were the other two things that make a woman a woman?" 

"Menstruation, Marriage, and Motherhood." Keturah laugh, poking fun at the idea. 

Tigris looked at Keturah seriously. "I don't think I need a marriage to be a woman." 

Keturah smiled in a sisterly way, and took her sister's paw in hers. "You were a woman the day you were born. You don't have to prove anything to me." 

"And Sharm?" 

Keturah scowled. "Who knows?" 

  
  


  
  


"I think she's on Avalon, from last I heard." Christyne noted for her, looking up from a huddle of sprawling young gargoyle children. 

The scene was something like a twenty first century version of "Little Women", only with gargoyles. Corala and Carribea were a little masculine, while Pacifica enjoyed being very prim and feminine. Although, Tigris reasoned, they probably went to fewer parties than their literary counterparts. This was her clan, Tigris thought to herself - Tanya (10), Corala (8), Carribea (6), Pacifica (3), and Atlantica (about 14 months, just starting to walk). Tanya had grown to be quite an independent and fun loving girl, seemingly taking after her third-race ancestry. Each were female, oddly - following what appeared to be a family legacy - or a curse, depending on how you chose to look at it. Christyne herself was not worried. 

"Don't fret about it. It's only luck. The next egg I lay will hatch a boy, I've already seen it." 

Of course, their ages were deceptive, as each of them were about twice that old in truth, as a gargoyle ages. Tigris wondered if, like their mother, they would reach a certain age and then stop aging. That wasn't what she wanted - she decided. She wanted to grow into an old lady. She did not relish the concept, but for some reasons she knew it was what was right for her. 

Christyne had taught them well, in an intricate combination of human values, and Phantom teaching them to control their extreme magical powers. They played games like Monopoly and Life, watched movies, and enjoyed the company of Phantom's friends. The parents still told stories about the interesting times they'd had trying to teach them to do so, and still maintain sanity. Tigris looked on in envy - what a life. They had built a series of fault-ridden caves in the bowels of the Twin Peaks mountains overlooking downtown Salt Lake City into a magnificent and sparkling example of how lovely a home can be. There were computers, ethnic foods, and always someone kind to talk to. 

However, Tigris knew this was not her home. Her heart... belonged elsewhere. She had her own life to lead. 

"I thought she was trying to avoid being Gathered?" Tigris was asking about Sharm. 

"She was, but she has a safety net. However, for some reason, she has gone to Avalon, and I don't know why - she hasn't told me anything about what's going on." 

Tigris was puzzled, and scratched her head, trying to imagine a reason. 

"Go to the mirror in the dining hall. It's magic will transport you there." Phantom instructed her. "And go soon - it will be dark there for a few hours still, but the morning will come soon here. Besides, someone is waiting for you there, and I'm not talking about Sharm." Christyne intoned. 

Surprised and a little taken aback by the prophetic words, the young female took her leave of her elder sister and her... attractive mate, and turned to the dining hall - a large cave which sports a large circular mirror at one end. Tigris passed her paw over the plane of glass once, then - cautiously - tested the surface with one talon. Her talon sank into the glass like it were made of water. With confidence, she strode through the magic portal into the mystic land of Lord Oberon himself. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


She found herself walking in grass along a high bluff next to the sea. 

Tigris had been here only one or two times before with Demona and Cearda as a male, and those visits were usually not long ones. Tigris knew exactly where she was going. Beyond the braziers on the beach, and up the canyon to the castle where the gargoyles stood and glided about as sentinels - Goliath's clan, and Oberon's Honor Guard of Avalon. 

Three figures stepped out of the castle to meet her approach at the gate. Two were gargoyles, a male armed with a sword, and a female with a bow. The other was a male human in a suit of armor - the Guardian - Tom. 

Tigris knelt. "I come in peace from Christyne's clan." 

"Any clanmate of hers if a clanmate of ours." said the gargoyle male in a softspoken manner. "Consider this your home." 

Tigris nodded her appreciation, and was escorted inside the fortress walls. She was escorted to the princess, who was very welcoming. Christyne's clan was considered a part of the Honor Guard of Avalon by Oberon's own decree. 

"I have not heard from her in weeks." Princess Katherine's voice was reassuring. Fortunately, she did not **seem** to remember Iolair, and that was one part of Tigris's life that she preferred remained forgotten. "She often comes by to visit us, but something has caught her attention of late, and I am not sure what it is. You might ask Erik." 

"Erik?" 

Erik, it turned out, was a fairly attractive bronze-colored male of very medium build and with single finger wings that most male gargoyles seemed to feature. He had a few small horns around the brim of his brow which framed in his musky brown hair. He had seductive green eyes, and Tigris realized, and felt a little stirring in her breasts. He was the one of the Avalon Clan considered their expert on the contents of the library. He was a learner, curious about anything and everything, which Tigris considered the boy's most endearing quality. 

"I want Erik and ye to go together to search for her. You are a capable warrior and sorceress Tigris, and Erik has expressed an interest in learning about the outside world." the Princess explained. "No one better to lead him in learning than someone who was once human herself." 

Tigris was surprised. "How... how did you know that?" 

"Your sister told us you were coming." Erik explained. He was also a gentle-spoken young man, as were most of the young male gargoyles of the Avalon Clan. "We need to know what's out there if we are to best protect our clan here." 

"And we need a sorceress who can return Erik home when ye complete your journey." Katherine explained. "As for Christyne, she explained things in advance." 

Tigris swallowed hard. Christine's foresight could prove... difficult at time. "And... you approve?" 

"My place is not to judge." Katherine said. "One wiser than us made the choice, and you and I should not question their will." 

"I have died and been reborn - I had hoped to let the past remain buried." 

"If I did not trust ye," Katherine admonished Tigris harshly, "I would not ask Erik to accompany ye." 

Tigris bowed in a masculine fashion, showing her respect for the princess's will. "I am your servant." she said. 

Katherine turned and left the two alone. "Fare ye well then." 

After she had left, Erik turned to Tigris, and bowed himself before her. "And I am your student." 

Tigris nodded, and turned away from the parapets and battlements of the castle, looking out to sea. She scratched her head. "If she has already come and left this place, then the next place we should look should be Manhattan. Mandy and Christine told me about her dealings with some companies and people there, perhaps that's where she's gone." 

"Might I make a suggestion?" Erik advised, "Avalon might know better where we need to be to find Sharm. We might let **her** choose where we need to be." 

Tigris smiled. "An excellent idea! Can we get a skiff?" 

  
  


  
  


*** Monday, February 3, 2020 ***

  
  


  
  


"The mist is clearing now." Erik announced. Before them appeared a very large mountainous setting, reaching down to the sea. A single road rang along the edge of the base of the mountains, and continued in both directions as far as the eye could see. There were many mountains and many peaks, reaching far up into the sky, some with snowy tips shaped like a dormant volcano. These mountains were covered in thick pine forests, dotted by occasional farms. Long strips of trees were missing from the mountains. 

"It's like my home! It's like Avalon! Lush and green..." Erik was saying. 

"Yes, much like a home I had once too." Tigris pondered introspectively. "I don't see any landmarks that give me any clue as to where we are. Could be anywhere." Tigris put a talon in the water and tasted it. "Kind of sweet, kind of briny. We're on a river or straight that leads to the sea." 

"Do you see that?" Erik pointed to a small water craft that appeared to be patrolling the shores. Tigris could easily place the sound of it's two-cycle Detroit Diesel motor. As they got closer, they could see that on it's side it read "US Coast Guard". 

Tigris raised her pointing talon in their direction, and spoke a single word. "Blind!" 

"What was that for?" Erik asked. 

"I just don't want them to see us. They're fine, they just won't see us." she explained. "The last thing I need to have right now is trouble explaining that you are not a US citizen and don't have a visa - at least not one that's legal." 

"Okay, okay, that's a problem." Erik laughed. "This is America, then?" 

"Yes, but the question - which part? There are three oceans which shore with the US. Look there." 

Tigris was pointing much further along the misted shores, where a large iron vessel of "battleship grey" was slowly moving it's way out to sea. Erik could make out the markings "USS Enterprise" on it's hull. Erik turned around, looking behind him - he could not see the other side of the river behind them. 

"This river is very wide and very deep." Erik concluded, "Or else it could not feature such large ships and distant shores." 

"It strikes me familiar for some reason." Tigris said. The rocks were black, volcanic in nature. From the strips of missing trees, Tigris concluded that logging was very heavy in this area. As they neared, Tigris noted with familiarity the way the moss and vines covered the trees. 

The skiff reached ground, and the two warriors disembarked, pulling the skiff up onto the beach head, and wedging it between the rocks where the tide would not claim it. Tigris stood over it, and raised a paw over it. "Unnoticeable!" she proclaimed, and turned to Erik. "That should shield it from prying eyes until we have elsewhere to store it." 

"Now what?" 

"Well, I think I see our first clue." Tigris said, pointing one talon up the rocky shoreline to a bluff not too far away where a large stone edifice was erected, standing defiantly against the natural chaos that surrounded them. 

"Curious. Do you know where we are yet?" 

"No clue. I don't think I've ever been here before. I'm pretty sure we're not in Salt Lake City, though, more like western Canada. I've never seen this building before. Besides, while this water is briny, but it's not salty enough for the Salt Lake - there would be salt all along this beach. It must be an ocean." 

Two gargoyles walked up the bluff in the moon toward the building. Tigris muttered another spell. "My sword!" she said, and a sword sheathed in a blue scabbard appeared. Erik thought the sword's hilt was elegant, set in sapphires. "A wedding present from Obsidiana, several years ago." Tigris explained. 

"Wedding present? I thought you were unmated." 

"I am. She's... He's dead." 

Erik nodded. "You needn't cover up the truth, I know about your former gender, remember? I just did not know about your mating this person." 

Tigris looked momentarily at the ground, sighing. "We never really mated, only married. I... prefer to forget it." Tigris belted the sword around her waist. Erik thought to himself how trim she was as she buckled it around her, and he was tempted to go up to her and offer to help just so that he could touch her. He repressed the feeling. 

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, referring to the issue of her former gender. 

"No, not in the slightest. You are the gargoyle you are, and I see a beautiful female just a few years younger than I. To be honest, I find you quite attractive." Tigris noted the slight bulge forming in the young gargoyle's loincloth, but pretended not to notice it. "Where is your former mate now?" 

"Dead, in battle." Tigris sighed, and finished belted her sword quickly. She turned to Erik, who was armed with rather plain sword with a touch of brass at the hilt, made of Caspian steel. She nodded in approval, and the two began to circle around to the front of the building. 

There was a large marble sign erected out front, which they stopped at first. 

  
  


**THE FIRST PORT ANGELES BIBLE SCHOOL**

A High School for young followers of Christ 

Erected in 1897 

  
  


Erik went stiff, and spun around. "Did you hear that?" he whispered harshly. Tigris hadn't, but if Erik had, that was enough for her. 

"No, but I can feel something... Someone's there." Tigris struggled to explain. "I feel someone... A stirring in my soul I haven't felt since I was only five..." 

"Good or ill?" Erik inquired, drawing his sword. 

"Good, don't draw - I want whatever it is to come to us." Tigris said, stepping forward, motioning for him to hold the sword back. There was a road in the front of the school, and forest beyond, filled in moonlight. She hurried across the road to the trees, and began to step through the underbrush. Erik followed, eyes and ears keen and pricked for danger. 

"I'd almost forgotten, I know of town called a Port Angeles on a river, and that means we're in Washington again, and I'm willing to bet that this river is a strait - the Strait of Juan de Fuca, which leads directly into Seattle and Tacoma!" 

"Washington - D.C.?" 

"No, state, I used to live here once with my sister when I was newly a gargoyle. I've been here before even that, as a human child. Think about it - we're in the US, the scenery looks like western Canadian, and there's a major US naval base nearby. It has to be the SeaTac area! Port Angeles, like the sign said, is a small town on the strait, and on the opposite side of the strait is Canada itself. I haven't been here since I was five! She's here! She must be!" 

"Who's here? Who is 'she'?" Erik asked, baffled and struggling to follow her train of thought. 

"Can't you feel her? She's here! Somewhere! I've got to find her - ah!" Tigris suddenly gasped. 

As if the trees themselves were alive, a glade opened up before them - the kind of holy place where a doe gives birth to her babies, there - bathed in the glory of full moon, a shadow merged into solid form, and Erik too gasped. The shape began to walk towards them, into the moonlight. Tigris ran forward in jubilation, her arms wide. "I thought I'd never see you again!" 

"MY CHILD." An unearthly, kind voice said. Erik was agape - Tigris stood with her arms wrapped around the most beautiful sight Erik had even seen in his life. With cloven hooves that seemed to be made of pure silver, with a single spiral horn that seemed to be made of the moonlight itself, and with wings of gentle snow... 

  
  


  
  


A Unicorn. 

  
  


  
  


Stunned, Erik felt himself fall down to one knee, he was some overcome with the awesome presence of something so pure and good - besides, he reasoned, it seemed like the appropriate thing at the time. 

Tigris was in tears. "It's been so long!" she ran her talons gently through the proud creature's mane, caressing it like a child. 

"WE ARE ONE, YOU AND I." the creature told Tigris in a gentle tone that seemed to come from everywhere and reverberate in your bones. "WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG, YOU TOOK A PART OF ME WITH YOU." 

Erik spoke. "I presume this is why we have come to this place, to protect this creature of purity." 

Tigris nodded. "It must be, Erik. She came to me when I was little, in the same forests, and we flew together through the full moon. Port Angeles is a local city, named after repeated myths and legends about angels in these woods. SHE is the angel of Port Angeles." 

"YOU HAVE DONE WELL, SMALL CHILD. NOT ONLY HAVE YOU SURVIVED BY JOINING THE RANKS OF THE GARGOYLES, BUT YOU HAVE FINALLY ATTAINED YOU TRUE GENDER IN FORM AS WELL AS IN SOUL." the Unicorn said. 

Erik looked at Tigris, puzzled. She explained, "Remember reading about Unicorns? They are attracted by young innocent females. When I was little, I was female in soul but not in body, but very very innocent and pure." 

"THE OUTSIDE IS BUT A SHELL, AND I SOUGHT ONLY THE HEART WITHIN." The Unicorn replied. "EVEN TO THIS DAY SHE IS PURE AND INNOCENT." 

"I have grown older and have seen the heat of battle." Tigris shook her head mournfully. "It took years for me to learn that I had to live as a woman - I tried every other way I could think of." 

"YOU ARE STILL A VIRGIN, YOUNG WOMAN." 

"How can that be? She's been married once!" Erik protested. 

"That doesn't mean we had sex." Tigris retorted, somewhat bitterly. 

"NOW NOW, NO MORE ANGRY FEELINGS. WHAT HAPPENED COULD NOT HAVE BEEN HELPED. YOUNG WOMAN, YOU ARE TO RIDE WITH ME AGAIN - WE HAVE MUCH WE MUCH TALK ABOUT." 

Tigris's face lit up, with an almost childlike joy. 

"BUT FIRST..." said the Unicorn. There was a tinkling of magic and light, and small ruby rings appeared on a talon on the left paw of both gargoyles. "YOUR DESTINY AWAITS YOU. THIS WILL ALLOW YOU TO GO AMONG THE STUDENTS AT THE SCHOOL IN SECRET. FIND THE ONE WHO IS TRAPPED THERE, AND IF YOU CAN, FREE HER! GO NOW!" she commanded. 

Tigris and Erik looked at each other, when the whole world seemed to suddenly become fluid, and melted all around them, and the two gargoyles fainted as the magic took hold. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Sandra! Sandra! Are you okay?!!! You look like you've seen a ghost!" said a young girl in her late teens, who was running up to Tigris. She shook her head in confusion. Where was she? Startled, she looked around, shaking the fog from her brain. 

She was in a restroom. There were stalls and sinks, and several mirrors - no urinals, thank goodness. Tigris faced the mirror, and was startled to see a thin slip of a human girl looking back at her with straight long blond hair and deep blue eyes. She was dressed in the same turtle neck and midskirt as the girl who was running up to her. She was barely mid-teens with a small figure, and standing in a pair of once inch heels and wearing white hose. There was a slight waxy feel of lipstick on her lips, and the weight of mascara on her eyelashes. 

Apparently, the other girl shouting a name that wasn't hers thought SHE was Sandra, because she was addressing her as such. "I'm... just a little dizzy." she said. 

"You looked like you were about to pass out." she said. 

"I don't know what happened." Tigris replied, honestly. 

The other girl grabbed Tigris's small human hand, and began to pull the girl forward out of the bathroom. Tigris was startled when she realized, there on her left hand, on her middle finger was the ring The Unicorn had given her and Erik. Tigris's heart stopped... Erik! Where was he?!!! She'd have to keep an eye out for him. 

"You and I can't be late to mass again - Ms. Phoebe will be furious!" she said, and Tigris allowed her to lead the way. She was a little unused to walking in heels - she'd been a gargoyle ever since she joined the fairest of the sexes and never really had the chance to wear them. They reached the chapel. Ms. Phoebe was a staunch disciplinarian with raven hair, who regarded both girls guardedly, addressing them as the other girl crossed herself, and Tigris followed her lead. Ms. Phoebe addressed to other girl as May. So that was her name. May was a skinny girl, although a little older looking and slightly taller than Sandra. She had Latino features framed in raven hair. 

She'd worn heels before of course. When she was little, and ignorant to what gender was, Matthew tried on Terra's shoes from her closet and played with her lipstick. He spent many nights secretly trying to make himself look pretty. Matthew had always been careful returning the things he borrow to where they had belonged. Tigris now shuddered, thinking how violently Mike might have reacted if he'd learned his little boy was secretly crossdressing in Terra and Christine's clothes. He'd even worn Christine's underwear to school a few times, though to Tigris's knowledge Christine had never found out about it. Thankfully he had never been caught by his family, though there had been a few close calls. As he started middle school, Matthew would do odd jobs in the city, from which he secretly bought panty hose, had his ears pierced, and started his secret collection of earrings, bracelets, and rings. He borrowed Christine's bras, which he would stuff with tissue paper. He began to slip them in occasionally in his dress at school. Other kids called him everything from "Eclectic" to "a Faggot". 

May and Tigris, Sandra rather, seated themselves near the back of a large chapel, as candles were being lit for the ceremony. Having been raised Mormon, she was not used to this kind of pomp and bombast, however she was certain she could follow the format. 

Then Christine had "died" and Matthew had become the eagle-headed gargoyle soon to be named Iolair. When he needed to express his femininity, he'd always had Tigris to hug and touch, and for a while he seemed happy. When they were reunited years later after defeating Demona and her clan was when Iolair was maturing, and forming his own identity, and things began to fall apart... 

Just then, there was a slight commotion in the hall - shaking Tigris/Sandra out of her thoughts. Some loud footsteps were heard, and a new face appeared in the door. Most of the students for this session were already seated, and this boy was almost late. He was dressed in the same style of school uniform, only it featured pants instead of a midskirt. 

It was Erik! Tigris, as Sandra, could tell by his trademark brown hair and green eyes. He was in his late teens like May, and carried a couple of books under his arm. He appeared to be out of breath from running, but their eyes immediately connected in recognition. Playing the good school boy, he crossed himself at the dais like the other students and seated himself next to Sandra. May gave him a strange look, but that was when the priest stood to give the sermon. 

Erik leaned over to Sandra. "Weird morning, eh?" he whispered. 

"You don't look to good, Eric! You feeling like Sandra? She almost fainted!" May whispered back. 

"Must be that January flu." he lied. He poked Sandra. "Notice anything weird about the headmistresses?" 

Sandra looked. Seated at the head of the room by the ceremony officials, were three women who might as well have been triplets except for their obvious distinction in hair color. 

"Those are Ms. Luna, Ms. Selene, and Ms. Phoebe." May explained. 

"The Weird Sisters." Sandra/Tigris almost snarled, mostly to herself. 

"Yeah, they are at that. Ms. Selene is the principal, Ms. Luna is her vice principal, and Ms. Phoebe is the school disciplinarian." May explained. 

Sandra winced. She'd been in middle school before, but a public school, not a bible school, as a boy and not a girl, and not with a fairy triumvirate playing the administration! At least... not that she knew of... 

Then it occurred to her. The trio seemed oblivious to the presence of the two gargoyles who at least appeared to be human for the moment, so she wanted to check something. Did she have an ID? She looked around for a school bag, a purse, or something... and found both sitting under the seat. There was a petite leather handbag with some papers and a lot of cosmetics, and a bookbag with her school books in it. Had these been here before? 

Looking in the purse, there was a State of Washington Driver's Learner's Permit, made out to a Sandra Shelton, 1471 North Avalon Way, sex: female. Eric/Erik produced one from his from his wallet, and discovered it said Eric Xanatos, also 1471 North Avalon Way. They looked at each other. 

"I'll bet my lunch this is a fake address. Notice the 'Avalon'?" Eric deduced. 

"I think you're right." Sandra said. She looked at her planner. School had only recently started a few months ago, and nearly half the year remained. There was a family photo from a photo studio that included her current self, her sister Christine, human and about 25, her mother Terra looking fairly distinguished, a much younger version of Ket without wings, and her father Michael. "Your typical family photo, only using members of my REAL family." she whispered to Eric. "Minus a few years here, or wings and a tail here..." 

"I think this is the Unicorn's work. A lot of effort was spent to make us look like typical kids attending school here. Look!" Erik pulled a photo from his wallet. It was another family photo, this time taken in a back-yard setting, where they were all smiling and posing for the camera in silly ways. 

"That's a... human version of our clan-father, Goliath." he said pointing to a stocky and well-built African man in his thirties. Sandra/Tigris recognized princess Katherine, only she was dressed a little more 20th / 21st century, instead of 10th / 11th century. There was the Guardian Thom, a normal enough looking man in his middle years. Sandra recognized humanized versions of Erik's rookery siblings from the Avalon Clan. Eric recited their names. "Gabriel, Angela, Ophelia, Marcus, Prosperina..." he broke off. Lastly, on the side, was Eric himself in what looked like the current illusion of a human he wore, with his arm around a girl a year or so younger than him - Sandra. "Heh. I guess we're supposed to be friends or something." he stammered. 

This was cute, Sandra thought to herself, as she hailed along with the priest. She wondered what other photos were in his wallet. Nothing else appeared in Eric's wallet. However, a closer inspection of her blouse produced a locket on a nice brass chain. It had a fairly nice, large photo inside. It had been taken at a formal dance. There stood Sandra dressed in an elegant gown of sapphire blue chiffon, and Erik in a matching midnight blue suit with sapphire cummerbund, kissing each other fully on the lips and their arms wrapped around each other, with the words "I'll Never Let Go - 2018" on the bottom. 

Eric paled noticeably. Tigris found it rather amusing. 

"We're at least good friends that have gone to at least one formal dance together." Sandra deduced. "Very good friends, it appears." 

"Have you both gone nuts?" May asked. Sandra and Eric suddenly remembered their human counterpart had been listening the whole time. "You two have been friends since grade school. You've dated a few other people, but I think you both had more fun on THAT date than any other. What exactly is going on with you two? You guys have been acting like you don't know who or where you are." 

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." 

"You know me better than that, Sandra. You can tell me anything. I don't care if you've seen gargoyles attacking your airplane like I saw - I'll believe you." 

Eric and Sandra looked at each other in amazement. 

Tigirs/Sandra was amazed to learn that Sandra's mother had been on a Citation jetliner traveling from Salt Lake City when two gargoyles (pink and blue) and a woman with long red hair and pointed ears rescued it from an attack by an angry dark colored gargoyle. Sandra listened quietly as they told May their story, hoping that May was a friend they could trust. Apparently, from the story May recounted from her mother, May had only just been born when this had occurred, but had been too young at the time to remember it herself. 

"Macaren." Sandra corrected May recounting of her mother's story. 

"Beg your pardon?" 

"The dark gargoyle that Christine killed - he was a jerk. His name was Macaren. He was pissed off because Christine dumped him." 

May blinked. "How could you be so certain about that?" 

"The pink gargoyle, Christine - she's my older sister. She later married the blue guy." 

Eric nodded it was true. Sandra turned to Eric. "Is it safe to trust her?" 

"I believe she is sincere. If she knows of Christyne, I am willing to believe her." 

"Don't you trust me like you used to?" May asked, eyebrows narrowing. "Or... are you even the same May I knew before?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"The Sandra I knew before was kind of shallow and not all there, like she was just a place holder for someone." May explained. "You ARE her, but you have more depth and personality to you. This is the first time you've ever been suspicious of me." 

Sandra looked at Eric. "For the months since school started - there was a shade holding our place, until we came. Someone went to a lot of trouble to set all this up!" 

"Try years - I've known you since we started at this school." May corrected. "I always knew you were important. There's something about you." 

"How else could you tell there had been a change, or that we were just shades until today?" Sandra asked. "I think you have a little bit of magical insight." 

May blinked. "Cool!" 

At that moment, one of the teachers shushed their heated little conversation, and the three children were silent. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The mid day sun was bright, but there was a definite chill in the air as the three emerged from mass, ears ringing about sins and repentance. "That is not the worship of Christ I learned in the library at Avalon." he noted. 

"The bible has been mistranslated for over two millennia now since Christ, and many more since the time of Adam and Eve." May said sardonically. 

"You don't like it here at this school, do you?" 

"Not really. My parents insisted, though." 

"Wow! Look at that!" Eric exclaimed, standing in the sunlight, looking at his arms and hands. "The sun!" 

"What about the sun?" May asked, puzzled. 

"It's so... so... bright!" Eric stammered. The three were off on their own walking through a garden on the grounds, so Sandra thanked the Goddess they were out of anyone else's earshot. 

"Hush." Sandra chastised him. "You could give us away if somebody heard you..." 

"You've never seen the sun before? Who are you?" May was still asking. 

Sandra sat down on a bench and crossed her legs, trying to relieve the pressure from one foot. She smoothed out her skirt, and May did likewise. May and Eric sat down on either side of her. "We ARE gargoyles. We were sent here on some kind of quest which someone has gone to great lengths to prepare us for, making up two students for us to fill in for, your becoming our friend May. Just look." Tigris pointed to the shadows the three children cast onto the sidewalk. Sandra and Eric's shadows were those of gargoyles. 

May blinked and turned to Sandra. "Does this have anything to do with that secret room?" 

Sandra and Eric looked at her. 

  
  


  
  


"We found it about a week ago, and we've been sort of meeting here to get away from bullies on lunch hour." May explained, opening up what had looked like a storage closet from the outside, but on the inside was a large room filled with stage props, old broken science projects, and lots of dust and cobwebs. Sandra felt like she were stepping from the moors of England into The Secret Garden. "Somehow, other people can't see this room. I found this key out in the lawn, and made a copy for you, Sandra, when we discovered it fit this door." 

"I think you have a definite magical ability, so I doubt it's coincidence we became friends." Sandra deduced. "Will you help us?" 

Eric seemed uncomfortable. "We can handle it by ourselves." 

"Trust me, Erik. Will you help us?" Sandra said, holding a hand up to stop him. "You never know." 

"Is it dangerous?" May asked. 

"Perhaps." Sandra replied honestly. 

"Good! Sure, I'll help." 

Sandra laughed a little. Looking at the room, she inspected the mess for a few minutes, before she clasped her hands together in front of her, and then flung them wide speaking one word. "CLEAN!" 

With that, the room wavered and the mess disappeared, to be replaced by an empty room with a single industrial light fixture overhead, and on window on the far wall. The wall were stone, set in one corner of the building, and they could see through the window that they they were pretty far off the ground (the third floor, as they came up the stairs). 

"Wow! How'd you do that." 

"Household cleaning spell. Household spells are the easiest to do." Sandra said. 

"You can do magic?!!!" May exclaimed in wonder. 

"I'm a warrior, but I am studying to become a gargoyle sorceress, but that takes many years to do. There is still much I cannot do." 

She nodded. "How old are you really? What are your names? Can I see you?" 

Eric motioned to the floor, where Sandra and Eric's shadows manifested their true gargoyle shapes. "Who knows how we take this illusion off and look human again." he said to Sandra. To May, he explained. "We were placed here by... someone else. Who knows the terms of this spell." 

"My name is Tigris Euphrates, and I'm about thirty six, because a gargoyle ages at half the speed a human does, so that makes me about 18 by your standards. Eric lived on Avalon for over a thousand years so he's a little older than me, but he's about 21 by human reckoning." 

Eric was still thinking out loud. "If this human shape is only an illusion, why do we then not turn to..." 

Sandra shushed him. She gave Eric that look. 'Don't give away ALL our secrets.' Tigris still had some difficulty trusting humans. 

"I've been meaning to ask you guys if I could move in up here. My dad was in a wreck and he doesn't get injury pay for at least a week, and the land owner is giving me hell since I couldn't pay him on the first of the year." 

"Your father is a truck driver?" Sandra inquired. "He wouldn't happen to have pulled for a rich museum owner in Salt Lake City, named GT Roland, twenty some years ago?" 

"How did you know? I never even told Sandra..." 

"I saved the lives of the other two drivers in that accident." Sandra replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can help you with that problem, but yes May - you can do whatever you need. I don't know what's going on here, but I think it's serious, and we need allies. You may not know it yet, but you are a powerful ally." Sandra extended a hand to her. 

May was stunned - they knew things, besides just having magic. Whatever was going on, it would sure be exciting! They clasped wrists, in a distinctly gargoyle fashion. 

"What do you know about rumors of angels along the forests?" Sandra asked, scratching her chin. 

"People tell stories, sometimes they might hit the local paper, once in a while, but nobody really takes them seriously. Is there something we should read into them?" 

Erik picked up on her train of thought. "Do you mean the Unicorn?" 

"Yes, I do. We both saw her with our own eyes, I can attest she's been there since at least the eighties." 

"The rumors go back further than that." May added. "I love Unicorns!" 

"You might get to see one if your heart is pure, May." Eric smiled. "She did say she would be back for you, Tigris." 

Sandra nodded. 

"Look, lunch hour is almost over. I wanna grab a bite to eat before we have to go to gym class..." May began... 

  
  


  
  


Tigris, as Sandra, was a little unprepared for the locker room itself. The last time she's seen a locker room, it was a horrific experience, back in Matthew's middle school days before becoming a gargoyle. It felt like being watched from every which way while boys made fun of your tiny male parts, as you knew in your mind you just weren't like them. You knew they could see your breasts, and as soon as they realized you were an imposter they would kill you! It's like dressing up a lamb in a sheepskin, and throw her in among the lions. Sure, at first the lions may be fooled, but eventually they'll catch on and rip the lamb to shreds. Of course, nobody realized you felt this way but you, but for the first time in Tigris's life, she looked into the locker room, and felt like she was in the right place. 

"Sandra, what's wrong?" 

"Hm?" she asked. Sandra had stopped in the doorway, thinking. May had turned around in concern. 

"You were crying." 

"No I wasn't." 

"Liar." May flicked a tear from the corner of her eye. 

May helped her friend with the locker they shared, and the two changed clothes, throwing their other school things into the locker. Sandra got some jeers looks from other girls, she was apparently quite the geek, being flat figured, the other girls were very cruel. Unlike when she was a boy, Tigris didn't mind it this time - because she knew she was NOT a tomboy or a lesbian as they accused, whereas before when the boys had called Matthew a fairy he didn't know if it was true or not. Knowledge was truly an empowering thing. 

One girl, in particular, seemed to give Sandra a great deal of trouble, a Susan Packham. Susan was fairly large boned herself. The irony was profound. May, before, had simply encouraged her friend that she was just a late boomer and would, without a doubt in her mind, blossom very healthily once her body was ready, and that she'd probably wind up better endowed than they were. Tigris, however, wasn't much to mind Susan's antics - Tigris knew she was a real girl now, not a boy who crossdressed, and that was all that mattered to her. 

"Hey fatso!" Susan shouted when the two reached the gym floor, emerging from the locker room. The two looked at each other. May seemed to take up on Sandra's attitude, and was nearly laughing. 

Sandra winked. "Watch this." Sandra faced off in front of Susan, her hands on her fairly wide hips. 

"Okay, Susie - I may be fat, but you're ugly and **I** can diet!" she said in a gloating tone, folding her arms in front of her. 

"Ooooh! You really think you're something, don't you! I'll teach you!" Susan snarled, and lunged for her, but Sandra was just too limber and fast for the bigger girl. Sandra spun on one heel, Susan missed her lunge and flew past Sandra, and then Sandra's tennis shoe landed onto Susan's back. Susan collapsed on the floor with an audible thud. 

"Whops!" Sandra said, faking astonishment. "Did I do that?" 

"Wow! Small girl's got the MOVES!" said one of the classmates. 

Sandra smiled to her. "I've been waiting to do that all semester." Sandra lied. "She left herself wide open." 

Class began, and the teacher led her students out onto a field. To one side were the gardens they had walked in earlier, to the other another building was under construction, as there was heaving construction equipment scattered about. "Today we run the mile." the teacher announced. "Eight laps around the track! Pace yourselves, the goal is not to beat everyone else, the goal is to finish without slowing to walk." 

Sandra began to do some mental figuring - did she still have the stamina of her gargoyle self? If this shape was truly an illusion she would, otherwise, she would have to see just how much jogging Sandra had done in the morning, if at all. 

A small blank pistol shot was fired, and the girls were off. Soon she could feel her strength, that endurance from being a gargoyle, returning at her command. It was true then! She was still a gargoyle underneath a spell of illusion so that people only saw a human girl. Sandra sped up, outpacing other girls. She could feel a familiar weight on her chest, and knew that Sandra would not be flat chested for very long - there was something heavy in there, and it ached a little. Ah, being a teenager, she sighed. She outpaced Susan, and poked her in the arm. She found her second wind, and began to speed up. Her small size gave her a big advantage over many of the other girls. 

Sandra was careful though. She muttered a spell under her breath to give May more endurance, and she too started passing people. As she finished her last lap, she saw other girls had finished before her - that was fine, she didn't want to go to the head of her class in one day, someone might get suspicious. After she crossed the finish line, the teacher scratched her head, checking her tally sheet. 

"Shelton! Don't you have another lap?" 

"No ma'am, but I think I could do one!" 

The teacher counted off eight laps on her tally sheet. "Never mind. You did well - much better than your old time." 

"Me and May have been jogging the mornings." 

"Good for you. It'll put muscle on your figure. You did well too, Ms. Hestia." she said to May, who was finishing behind her. "You two get a gold star for effort - go ahead and shower." 

This meant they were dismissed from class and free to go change. "Hurray!" May shouted. "I need a shower!" The two friends shared a knowing look. "You gave me a boost, didn't you?" 

"Sure did! Do you mind? I found I could still run like a gargoyle, and wanted the teacher to think everything was normal, and not suspect I was on heroin or something." 

May laughed. 

  
  


  
  


School was letting out, and May had a car to get home. Most students did, as the shore-line based school was somewhat remote. The two gargoyles did too, but Sandra was not in the mood to try and learn how, let alone teach Eric. The girls had met up with Eric fairly quickly after gym, but Eric had a history class, and the girls had Home Economics. However, this meant they knew where to find each other after the school day ended. The plan was to visit the address on their IDs, and see if it was real or not. If not, the two gargoyles in disguise were told they could stay at her house if necessary. 

However, while crossing the front lawn toward the parking lot, a boy approached Sandra and blocked her path. Eric and May paused, wondering what was going on. 

"Hi Sandra! You still going with me to the dance next Friday?" the new boy asked. Sandra immediately decided he did NOT like this boy - he was way too cocky and sure of himself. 

May and Sandra looked at each other - May's expressed seemed to say she knew about as much of this as Sandra did. 

"What are you talking about?" Sandra inquired, guardedly. 

"Don't you remember?" he asked. "Our big night! We were gonna go hit the town, drink a little, crash the dance here, have a great time, and spend the night at my house!" 

Eric felt himself clasping his fist in his hand in from of him, a classically gargoyle response to someone you don't like. 

"Your delusions are getting grander, Scott." May told the new boy. So that was his name, Sandra thought. 

"Delusions?" Scott said proudly, reaching out to touch Sandra, who backed away. "We had a great night planned! And the sex would be outta this world!" 

"What?!!! Never!" Sandra protested. 

"I'm not gonna let you go back on it!" 

"NO!" Sandra protested. "What part of that don't you understand?!!!" 

Eric's fists were rubbing together violently now, rubbing the ring on his left hand in the process. Scott reached out and grabbed Sandra by the wrist. She struggled to break free, but found herself much weaker than the boy, not having the time to call up her gargoyle strength as before. May pushed and beat on Scott, but Scott shoved her aside like a grain of sand. 

Fury raging, Eric's form melted away, until his true self stood in front of Scott. Now much taller than Scott, the male gargoyle flicked Scott aside and away from Sandra like an insect. Erik's wings snapped taught. "You leave her alone!" he snapped. 

Scott got to his feet and ran forward. "Stupid gargoyle! Get out of my way!" 

Erik spun and punched Scott once in the face, and was surprised to see him not flinch, but return the punch. Erik seemed to be struggling now - the fist fight with the gargoyle was fairly evenly matched! Both were throwing punches hard enough to crush a rock! Erik, however, had surprise on his side, and used it. He feigned a swing, and instead swung his tail under the young human, who tripped and fell to the grass. Erik picked him up by his feet, and threw him down onto the ground again. Scott was unconscious. 

Erik rubbed the ring on his finger again, and became Eric once again. He and May looked around - no one had even noticed the commotion. Once again, they had somehow been shielded from prying eyes in the crowded place. Sandra was on the ground, a few tears in her eyes, and her arm looked like it was going to bruise, but otherwise she was none the worse for wear. "So that's what the rings do - they control the illusion. That's probably how I got my stamina back so that I could run the mile." 

"That still doesn't explain why we aren't... asleep." Eric said. "I was myself just now, in broad daylight." 

Sandra looked at May, and sighed. She seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, she had no reason to believe whatever kept them from turning to stone would stop working until their mission here was fulfilled. "The rings probably do that too." Sandra took his hand, and tried to take his ring off. It wouldn't budge. It was perfectly loose and comfortable on his finger, but it simply would not come off. "Looks like only the Unicorn can take them off, too." 

"I'm not complaining. That protects us from one vulnerability." Eric said. 

The trio drove for a while about the small towns that interconnect all the way out to Port Angeles itself, looking for the address defined on the driver's permits, but had no luck - concluding it HAD to be phony. Sandra gave a healthy "I told you so!" when they were done. They stopped to get something to eat, and at May's apartment. 

"My mother's a drunkard. After she and dad got divorced, she went off with whatever man will support her, and dad drives trucks to keep the bills paid." she explained. 

Using her magic, Sandra pulled few thousand dollars in hundreds from some unknown source, and gave them to May. "Use these to pay the bills, now. Christine won't miss the money. If she ever patents half the inventions she and her photographic memory of her have made, she'd be the richest person in the world." 

"Okay, then that's taken care of. Now what?" May said after paying the bills on her apartment. 

"I'd like to go back to the school, if it's alright with you, May." Eric replied. 

"Why?" May was really against this idea, that was obvious. 

"I think whatever we want is there, otherwise, we wouldn't have been sent there, and been made students there. Whatever we're up against, it's there." he said thoughtfully. 

"I think he's right." Sandra said, turning to May. "It's a blustery night, how'd you like to ride the wind there?" 

May's face lit up. Sandra turned to Eric and winked. 

  
  


  
  


Riding atop Tigris's back, the two gargoyles glided across the moonlit landscape back to the school. "If the two of you just met, then why are Eric and Sandra a couple?" 

"Don't know." Tigris smiled. "What's that saying - that even shadows have a secret life of their own?" 

"Looks quiet." Erik said, referring to the school. "Thankfully." 

"It should be. Even the jocks end practice and go home after the sun goes down - school policy." 

"Convenient." Tigris said. 

"You know something?" May asked Tigris. 

"What's that?" 

"You're a lot prettier as a gargoyle." May replied. 

"Glad you agree! Hang on, we're going to land." Tigris laughed, blushing a little (though no one could see it in the night darkness). 

With a gentle swoop upwards and a few steps forward, both gargoyles and the young human were on the ground. Tigris looked at May and smiled. "You're shorter." 

May looked down at Tigris's fetlocks and said, "If I had feet like those, I wouldn't be as short." 

"You can't paint your nails." Tigris discouraged her, laughing. 

May didn't reply, laughing. 

The trio approached the building, which appeared dark. May had to hurry to keep up, because she seemed to need to take two steps for every one the gargoyles made. 

Tigris extended her paw to the door, and spoke one word. "Open." 

The door did as it was commanded, and the three filed inside, locking the door again behind them. Tigris patted the door behind her, as if to say "Thank you." 

"Listen!" Erik whispered. 

The trio crowded against one wall, listening. Down the corridor was the auditorium, where the light was on, and voices could be heard. 

May whispered to Tigris. "Can you make us invisible?" 

"Perhaps if I were better trained in human magic, but right now my expertise is fairy magic." 

May was puzzled. "There's a difference?" 

"Did you ever see the movie 'Star Wars'? The original from the seventies?" 

"Sure!" she replied, still in a whisper. 

"Remember what Obi Wan said about 'the Force'? He said it was created from living things and it binds the universe together? That's basically true. The differences lay in how you channel it. Humans use objects like books, rings, pendants, or even vases, but fairies do it differently. They have their given name, and then they take another name, a secret name, which become their TRUE name, and that's what they channel their magic through, because nobody can take away your name. My sister taught me that." she explained. "Invisibility is a big spell, and not much use against someone who can sense a BIG spell. I won't risk casting a spell on them, they might have wards and detect us instantly. I can shield us against them, though." 

"What use IS magic, then?" May asked, disappointed. 

"Not much. That's why I stick to being educated." 

"How DO gargoyles become educated?" 

"Reading and apprenticeship to other gargoyles, or humans." Erik answered. 

"I'd like that better than school." May replied. 

The two gargoyles and human crept down the hall, as the voices in the auditorium became more distinct. 

"You can't make me your slave forever, eventually Titania will find out what you've done, and then she'll take care of you!" Came a voice Tigris recognized, but couldn't place just yet. 

"I'm not worried about that, my dear. It was her mirror that brought you here, so I don't think she'll really mind if we borrow you for a few nights." came Scott's voice. 

May was about to say something to Tigris upon recognizing Scott's voice, but Tigris's put a talon to her lips to shush her. 

"You know that I could twist any demand you make of me into a shape you wouldn't like. I'd probably enjoy that immensely right now. Besides, two warriors have already been dispatched to deal with you - you met one of them today." 

Erik's eyes glowed angrily at the thought, but he did not make a noise. 

"I'll deal with them as I deal with you. By these iron chains, and by my power, I bind you to human form, Sharm. Now you will be no problem for me to control." 

Upon the naming of that name, Tigris sprung to life. The loud crackle of electricity and magic came from the auditorium. The gargoyle woman tried to shout her friend's name, but Erik slapped his hand over her mouth. Tigris wasn't about to stop, though, and broke from his grasp and into the auditorium - just in time to see the pale and weak form of the flame-red haired fairy melt away to that of a flame haired human woman no older than Tigris's sister Christine. 

The human woman with the red hair fell to the floor in a weakened heap, looked at her hands once, and then looked up to see Tigris standing there looking at her with a horrified expression on her face. Sharm, trapped as a human woman, reached out to Tigris, before fainting onto the floor face down. 

"Sharm!" Tigris exclaimed. 

There, on the stage, sat Scott, sitting in what appeared to be a golden throne. Sharm lay before him, in the Orchestra pit, almost smouldering in her own flesh. There was another boy next to the throne that Tigris didn't recognized. 

"Deal with them!" Scott shouted, pointing at the gargoyles. 

In the center of the floor between Tigris and Sharm's comatose form, three pillars of smoke seemed to rise out of the floor and coalesce into the three witches from Avalon, the Weird Sisters themselves. Raising their hands, they emitted a large beam of magic, which struck Tigris. She put up her hands to defend herself, and for a moment held up a magical shield that kept them at bay, but was quickly overwhelmed. The beams struck Tigris's body, and she screamed in Terror, as any woman would when he skin was on fire. Erik and May peered around the corner only to see Tigris collapse in a smouldering heap of burned flesh. 

"Scott? Paul?" May whispered to herself, before Erik pulled her back. 

"That's why we can't let ourselves be seen." he whispered. 

"Is she... dead?" 

"I hope not, but I fear so. The Magus is the only man I've ever known to defeat them, and he's dead." Erik sighed, the pain of loss in his voice. "He gave his life, doing so." 

"I'm sorry." she said. 

Erik scowled. "Tigris has survived worse than this, if what I was told is true. We must get out of here, now! They will come looking for me, and most certainly kill you too. Sorry, but..." he said, picking up the human in his arms, and escaping down the hall... 

  
  


  
  


The body of Tigris was laid before the teenage boy, next to Sharm. "There's the first off your rescue party." Scott said to the still weak Sharm. He motioned to the Weird Sisters. "Take her sword." 

Her sword was the one thing on the female gargoyle's burned-away body that remained totally unscathed. 

"We cannot touch it." Resisted the first of the trio. 

"It contains our death." 

Scott looked down at them, and reach out a hand in their direction. The sword unbuckled itself and flew to him. "Yes, it has a good deal of iron in the core. Interesting. I like it." 

"Let us finish this tonight." said the third weird sister. 

"You'll do my bidding as long as I command it. However, I too am anxious to see that this is finished. You three find and dispatch that male gargoyle I tangled with earlier, and I will finish this task." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Her wings burned away, her hair gone, body nothing more than meat clinging to bones, the horrid stench roused Sharm. She immediately recognized Tigris, and gasped in horror. He had taken Tigris's sword, she noticed, therefore she had little defense in case he returned. Looking around, Sharm saw trees surrounding a moonlit glade. There was a presence of goodness and life here. All the same, she dreaded it, because she knew what it would mean. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she found herself crying. She hadn't meant for this to happen! Here she was, laying next to the burned out mass that used to be her best friend's brother. This was all her own fault! How had she allowed this to happen? She had no powers now, she was helpless to save Tigris. She reached out, and found the burned flesh that covered the vein of life in her neck, and touched it. No pulse. 

Without intervention, the soul would surely pass on - this was what, the third time Matthew had died? She raised her eyes to the moon, and silently pleaded. "Please, Titania! Don't let her die! This is all my fault!" 

There was a noise behind her, and she turned around. The shadows and moonlight seemed to mix and blend together until a shape formed. Sharm's heart fell into her stomach. The Unicorn looked right past Sharm, and down at Tigris, who's body shimmered and became whole again, and began to breathe. 

"YOU ARE NO LONGER MINE." the Unicorn told Sharm without even looking at her. Tigris stirred, moaning. 

"I'm sorry. I have no choice now." 

"THEN DO IT, DAMNIT! DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO!" the Unicorn cursed. 

From her pocket, Sharm withdrew several strands of gold wire and chain. A bridle. Tigris, barely stirring back into consciousness, knew nothing of how close she had come to death. All she saw was the bridle, a golden bridle. Such a device was so rare, it could only have one purpose... Tigris sounded her battle cry, throwing her wings wide, screaming in rage. She raced forward, one paw outstretched. 

"BACKWARDS, FOREWARDS 

INSIDE OUT 

UPSIDE DOWN 

AND RIGHTSIDE UP!" 

Tigris cast her spell. The air sparkled with magic. Sharm blinked once, and found herself holding the golden bridle on the head of... TIGRIS! The Unicorn stood where Tigris had stood only a second before! The Unicorn blinked once, wheeled, and ran - vanishing like a shadow into the night. 

Tigris leashed out wish her claws, but Sharm suddenly shouted. "STOP!" 

Tigris stopped, dropping down to her knees. "Whoa... what's... wrong with me?" she asked, dizzily, holding her temples with her paws. 

Sharm was not above a short, evil laugh - an alien sound - the happy fairy Tigris had once known. "You're an idiot, Tigris! I made that bridle with more magic than you can possibly imagine! Only a unicorn can be held in it, and will be subject to my every command. You should never have interfered, and none of this would ever have happened. I was just going to teach you a lesson, persuade the Unicorn to teach you to be a boy again - I knew you'd listen to her! Look at how you've mucked things up! You ruined everything!" 

Tigris was sweating and groaning, on all fours with her wings drooping. Her breathing was labored, still moaning. She held her arms across her breasts, leaned her head began and began to scream like a wildcat, eyes red and aflame. She began to claw at her skin as white hair began to sprout across the length of the gargoyle's body. Sharm's eyes grew wide in fascination. "Whoa! I should NOT have used that Life Lotion making the bridle..." she muttered to herself. 

Tigris screamed again, flicking her tail about madly... but Sharm noticed it wasn't the leathery tail of a gargoyle anymore, but a long mane of hair. Tigris's wings had begun to sprout snowy feathers, and the gargoyle's nose and jaw seemed to protrude from her face in a grotesque fashion. 

The gargoyle gave one last shrill scream, as a little trickle of blood began to run down her brow. There was a cracking sound, as a little nub appeared in the center of her brow. Lightning crackled out of the middle of nowhere, snow falling from a clear sky, falling all over the body. Tigris choked once, coughing and spewing blood. Her neck twisted backwards in a grotesque fashion, bones cracking. Her knees and elbows snapped sickeningly, the joints changing to move backwards of before. Lightning lanced down from the clear sky and joined the growth at the center of Tigris's forehead, casting it in purity and twilight wonder, forcing it's way down the length of her body. 

She collapsed on the ground and was still. There was silence. "That's what I get for using Paradox magic." Sharm said to herself. 

Upon the ground, in an unconscious heap, amidst a cluster of torn bits of cloth, lay Tigris - the Unicorn. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Mission accomplished!" Sharm proclaimed as she walked, triumphantly into the gymnasium, a Unicorn in tow. 

"Well done, Sharm!" Scott announced. "So the legends ARE true!" said Scott in wonder. "There be uuuuunicarns in there hills!" he laughed. 

"I've done my part of the deal, now you do yours." Sharm said. 

Scott sat to one side, and thought for a moment, fingering something under his Bull's T-shirt. Tigris was willing to wager it was Sharm's necklace. "I don't think so. Sisters!" 

"Your bidding, Master?" the trio said in unison, as they appeared, basically out of thin air with a plethora of magic. 

"Place her under your control." 

The trio sighed, unwillingly. "Yes, master." Their eyes glowed together, and turned to Sharm. 

Sharm didn't waste any time. She used all the adrenaline in her system to leap up atop the creature. "Go! Go! Faster than lightning!" The unicorn charged out of the room with a dash, carrying the flame-haired woman along with her. 

"After them! After them!" Scott demanded, the Weird Sisters in hot pursuit. 

"Run! Run while you can, mortals!" The first shouted. 

"We'll see you pay for what you've done to us, Sharm!" The second shouted. 

"Your time has come!" Said the third. 

"Not yet! Even I have a few tricks left!" Sharm came back, as she disappeared from sight. 

Tigris, the Unicorn, leapt through front door, and galloped into the forest, narrowly avoiding twists and turns, disappearing into the shadows, and before any time at all, came to the river, where she began to wade. 

"Oh Tigris, I can't believe I got you into this." Sharm sighed. "I wanted to teach you a lesson, I admit that. I didn't want to get you killed, or hurt, or transformed. I think we're both in trouble this time. They think YOU are the Unicorn now, but at least that means the other is safe. I don't want her hurt anymore than you. I just wanted her to... teach you to be male." 

Tigris nickered slightly - almost bucking, shaking Sharm off her back. She landed in the water with a splash. Sharm let out a yelp. 

"I deserved that." Sharm sighed to herself, wringing the water from her hair. She took the lead on the bridle into her other hand, and began to lead Tigris the Unicorn up the river. It was going to be a LONG night. 

"What can we do?" she asked the creature. Tigris stuck her head up, and looked back in the direction of the school, her ears swivelled forward. "I wish I knew why you can't talk. Let's start with yes/no questions, okay? Do you know something we can do?" 

A nod. 

"Is there anyone who can help us?" 

Another nod. 

"Do they have any magic to let me be myself again?" 

Tigris shook her head. 

Sharm sighed. "You were my last hope, then." 

A shadow covered them, and there was a whooshing sound as Erik, carrying May, came to land on the riverbank. 

"The Weird Sisters are searching the wood for you. You are not safe. It will not take them long to find us." 

"I must get my powers back, or else Tigris..." Sharm trailed off for a moment, embarrassed when she realized they did not know the Unicorn on the bridle was Tigris. "...Will never fight again." 

"She's not dead then?" May inquired. 

"No, the Unicorn restored her body." she replied truthfully, "But Socrates and Plato have her now, and I cannot free her until I have my powers back." 

May, in wonder and astonishment, walked up to the Unicorn - unknowing it was Tigris, and stroked the Unicorn's head. It seemed to have a rejuvenating effect on the Unicorn, as it perked up. 

Sharm smiled and laughed in a friendly way. "The touch of a young virgin female is what they crave." she said. "Just by petting her, you give her strength." 

"She's so... beautiful!" May said with wonder. 

Sharm looked up at Erik. "That's why they used me - they knew I could draw the Unicorn in." she lied. Erik seemed pleased with the answer. 

"Can a virgin boy do the same thing?" May inquired, referring to male gargoyle next to her. 

Sharm shook her head. "No, pure female virgins are what they crave." 

Erik nodded. "Tigris had the same effect on her." 

"That makes no sense to me. I can't figure out why the unicorn came to him when he was six." Sharm said. 

May was confused. Holding onto the Unicorn, she looked up at Sharm and Erik. "What do you mean? Tigris isn't... a girl?!!!" 

Sharm snarled in frustration. "No, Matthew was transformed into a girl using magic." 

Erik looked at May. "Matthew was a young human, also." 

May was agape. "That's incredible! Could I become a boy?" 

Sharm was startled. "Why would you want to?" 

"Just to see what it's like. Did... Tigris become a girl willingly?" 

"Yes." Sharm huffed. 

"Why?" 

Sharm was silent, fuming. The Unicorn hung it's head. Erik answered the question. "Matthew was the younger brother of the gargoyle woman who rescued your mother when that Xanatos jet was attacked, twenty years ago. Christyne, as she's called since her marriage, used to be human too, but was needed in a battle by fay, therefore was changed. Matthew was killed saving young gargoyle's life, and part of the conditions of his restoration were becoming a gargoyle forever. That's why Tigris and I cannot become real humans here at the school - she is forbidden. However, young Matthew was also a transsexual - he wanted to be a girl since he was little." 

Sharm filled in more. "Becoming a gargoyle did not change that, and after a failed marriage to another gargoyle who also bore the name of Tigris, Matthew attempted suicide." 

May winced. "I know what that's like." she stroked the magical beast in her hands for comfort. She looked at the scars on her wrists. The Unicorn saw them too, and touched them with her horn. The scars twinkled and vanished. May was aghast. 

"Eventually, Matthew came to the conclusion that life as a female was better than suicide, and a powerful Oracle changed him into the female you and I know as Tigris Euphrates." Erik concluded the story. 

"Circe was a fool, she just gave him what he wanted." Sharm muttered angrily. 

In a flash of insight, May began to piece things together. She turned to Sharm. "Why do you hate her?" 

Sharm was frustrated. "I don't hate her. I'm just... not comfortable with her. He's my friend's younger brother. I just wanted the Unicorn to show him that he was really a boy." 

Erik laughed. "That reasoning is pure folly, Sharm - you said yourself that the Unicorn does not prefer boys, and Tigris was visited by this Unicorn when she was little." 

May's eyes lit up. "That's right! The Unicorn looks on the inside for feminine nature - not the outside!" she kissed the creature in her hands on the nose. "She was meant to be a girl from day one! Maybe that's the way some transsexuals are - they really are girls in boy's bodies." 

Sharm was about to disagree and protest, but Erik stopped her. "This is not the time. We have tarried here too long already. The Weird Sisters..." 

But it was too late. A plethora of magic appeared. Sharm was thrown backward as Luna picked up the lead on the bridle. Tigris, as a Unicorn, bucked and reared wildly, but in the end was subdued by a single thought from Luna. Shackles appeared around Sharm's wrists. Sharm tried to run, but tripped, and fell into the water. Erik had grabbed May, but like hungry snakes, more shackles slithered out of the ground itself, found their legs, and snapped their hungry jaws shut around their ankles. The two tripped, fell to the forest floor, and began to pull on the shackles which remained rigidly in place. 

"NOW YOU WILL SUFFER!" the trio shouted in unison, as every person there vanished into thin air in a burst of magic, reappearing in the orchestra pit of the bible college's auditorium. All of them were shackled except Tigris, the Unicorn, who was bridled and Luna held her lead. 

"Well done, girls." Scott told the trio. 

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Erik demanded hotly. 

"Temper temper, gargoyle. My name is Socrates, and this is my assistant Plato." 

"Don't any of you Unseelie-lovers believe in original names?" Sharm rolled her eyes. "First Shakespeare..." 

Socrates/Scott slipped down from his golden throne on the stage, and stood on the lip of the stage, looking down at the Unicorn. He was holding Tigris's sword with the ornate sapphires on the hilt in his hand. He drew the blade, setting the scabbard aside. With a leap, he jumped down into the orchestra pit, and walked towards the Unicorn that was Tigris, who remained silent and placid as a rock. 

"Where's Tigris? What have you done with her?!!!" May demanded, not knowing she was the Unicorn. 

Erik struggled on the chains, but to no avail. He, Sharm, and May watched their foe as he approached with sword bared. Socrates approached the Unicorn, and raised the sword. Tigris, the Unicorn,'s eyes went wide. 

May and Sharm simultaneously screamed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" 

The last thing Tigris saw was her own sword coming down at her face when he whole world went dark. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


There was music out on the balcony, the dreamer realized, as she looked down at herself, and realized that the music was coming from behind her. Her gargoyle skin was colored white, and she was dressed all in white. She faced out from the balcony, across the desert, but her attention was on the music. 

He sang to her. 

She could not see him, but she knew he was there, because he sang. From somewhere she knew the words, but they didn't make any sense. Why did she feel like she'd always been here, waiting to hear this song? What did she do, now that he was here, singing it to her? 

Slowly, she turned on the balcony to face the tall human male in a dark tuxedo who sang to her. He gently took her in his arms. 

_ "Say you'll share with me_

_ Each night, each morning_

_ Say the word and I will follow you_

_ Tell me all you say is true_

_ Love me, that's all I ask of you!"_

  
  


  
  


  
  


With a plethora of sparks and magic, Tigris was separated from her horn. May and Sharm were still screaming, as Tigris's eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted in a heap of Unicorn to the floor. A cold wind seemed to fill the room from nowhere, and the lights seemed to darken. Tigris's sword rang with a resilient and clear note. With a clack, the horn came to rest on the gymnasium floor, as small curls of smoke rose up from it's base. Erik, however, wasted no time. The distraction was perfect. He reached over to May and with all his gargoyle strength, opened the shackle on May's leg just enough for her to slide her small ankle out. "Get the sword!" Erik shouted at her over the noise. 

May dashed across the floor, doubled her fists together as one, and belted Socrates in the stomach. Not expecting the attack, he doubled over, dropping the sword, which May neatly intercepted by the hilt. With a single throw, she spun the blade end for end over the heads of those present. Erik reached out and caught it before the others knew what was going on. 

The Weird Sisters back away, but one gestured towards May, who was suddenly surrounded by four new shackles mounted to the hardwood floor which attached themselves to her arms and legs, pulling her to the floor by the fallen form of Tigris and her still smoking alicorn. Sharm screeched and kicked at Socrates, who turned around and punched her in the face. "THAT was very stupid of you, Sharm!" Socrates snarled. She doubled over, holding one eye. 

The Weird Sisters surrounded Erik, their hands held agressively in front of them. Erik held the sword poised. "You cannot kill us with THAT blade!" they said. 

"No, but I can weaken you!" Erik replied with confidence. He lunged for Selene. He felt nothing but air, and spun to slice at the others, but Selene did double over, holding her middle. Enraged, Sharm's eyes glowed with red gargoyle flame, as she struggled against the chain that bound her in place. 

"Are you afraid to fight me yourself?" she challenged him. 

"I am not stupid enough to give into your challenges." 

In the midst of this distraction, everyone had forgotten May - chained to the floor, and the smoking alicorn - newly separated from Tigris's body. She reached her left hand through the shackle, trying to reach the alicorn. No one had noticed her move toward it - they were all busy with Erik and Sharm. She stretched as far as she could, trying to get her fingers onto it. 

Sharm managed to mash the heel of her shoe into Socrates's foot. "Take that, Senior Creep! A well dressed woman is never unarmed." Now Socrates was pissed off! 

Just the second May touched the alicorn, she felt the shackles around her break into pieces. She picked it up, raised the alicorn over her head, pointed the tip at the Unicorn, and drove the thing like a dagger into the Unicorn's side. 

It was if a nuclear explosion had suddenly rocked the gymnasium. Suddenly the whole room was filled with light and crackled with magic. A wind storm erupted like a hurricane - chairs flew, bits of paper and pencils pelted those present like raindrops. May stood still among the chaos, eye wide and a smile across her face. She'd done it! She knew it! Sharm and Erik felt their restraints vanish, and Sharm's form shimmered and her small elven features returned as the spells all around them broke down in this chaotic magical wind. At the center of this blast was a pillar of light which seemed to be spinning. A screaming call filled the air, that of a mighty cat. Out of the spinning pillar of light, a gargoyle flared it's wings. 

The Unicorn and the alicorn had both vanished, and as the lights in the room returned to normal, a huge burn mark covered the floor, where Tigris lay unconscious, naked as a jaybird, in the center of the burned area - with a small silver star glowing right in the center of her forehead. 

Sharm lay in a heap of red hair and iron chains on the carpeted auditorium floor, and Erik lay on the floor with burn marks on his skin, and Tigris's sword skidded across the floor, with the Weird Sisters between him and it. 

Everyone was staring at Tigris. 

"Wait a minute... I don't get it." May said, looking down at her fallen gargoyle friend. She removed her jacket from her shoulders, and used it cover Tigris's loins. "How could Tigris have been the Unicorn?" 

Sharm, unfortunately, was out for the count, and not available to comment. 

"You've lost!" Socrates shouted. "You've put up a good fight, and I've beaten you! Fair is fair! Sisters! Bottle them! They are becoming much too annoying." The sisters eyes glowed, and from their eyes and mouths shot beam of light. May, Erik, Sharm, and Tigris were enveloped in energy. May and Erik screamed. Socrates walked over and picked up Tigris's sword, enjoying the sound. "You will all pay for making me loose my prize." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The curtains in the auditorium had been closed, and the stage lights were all on. The chairs had somehow all been restored, and the burned area was gone. Tigris shook her head, and looked around her. In a line in one of the aisles, she lay between Erik on her left and May on her right. Sharm, bound by iron chains, lay to Erik's right. May and Erik started to shake their heads and rouse as well. Tigris reached over to Sharm and broke the chains around her, taking all the chains in her hand, she spoke a command. "Storage." The chains vanished, and her hands were all empty. 

Sharm blinked, and sat upright. "Oooooh, that feels a WHOLE lot better." 

"How did you get like this, Sharm?" Tigris inquired. 

"I got called with Titania's mirror, much the same as Demona called Puck, and of course, with me in chains, I had to do his bidding." she explained, brushing the dirt from her tunic, rising in the air as she did so. "He was really good. He wanted to use me to call the Unicorn, but then you guys showed up right in time to stop him. You know the story from there." 

"But..." May cut in, rubbing her head, and running a hand through her ebony hair. "How could Tigris have been the Unicorn?" 

"I pulled a switch, see!" Sharm smiled, holding up two fingers. "There were two Unicorns. The original one is still out there. I was being forced by the jerk to call her, and she appeared. Tigris was there, injured by the trio, and the Unicorn restored her, like I said before." She gestured in the female gargoyle's general direction. "I had made a gold bridle to capture the unicorn out of some powerful magic to capture her and try and teach MATTHEW how to be a boy!" Sharm slurred the ex-human's name in a nasty way, and Tigris scowled at her angrily. She continued. "But then Tigris here casts a simple first-graders spell - it was actually kinda clever really - and where Tigris stood, the Unicorn appeared, and where the Unicorn stood, Tigris stood. So there I was, with Tigris in my bridle, and with the bridle filled the Unicorn ran to safety." Tigris smirked, Sharm put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "My bridle was made with some unpredictable magics. Those magics needed a unicorn in the bridle to do their job, and magic sometimes takes the path of least resistance - it transformed Tigris into another Unicorn. I'm not surprised, there was plenty of magic there to do it." 

Tigris rubbed her arms, and looked away. She wasn't going to talk about it. 

"The magic made Tigris subservient to my will, and I also think they kept her from speaking." Sharm went on. 

"THAT'S why the unicorn was so quiet!" May sighed in relief. 

"More like I had nothing to say." Tigris finally snarled. "Being a Unicorn... it changes your perspectives on life a little. Things... suddenly don't seem to matter as much anymore, and you don't have much that you care about." 

"Not something I want to try." Sharm announced. 

"Neither did I." Tigris spat back at her. 

"Anyhow, May - you have a gift for magic, you knew exactly what to do. Skewering Tigris with her own alicorn, or by any other Unicorn, would heal whatever spells she was under, and that's why she returned to normal. It's also what broke all the spells in the room at the time." 

May was crestfallen. "Then I never actually saw a real Unicorn." 

Sharm put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, NO! You saw a REAL Unicorn! I take no half-measures. There was enough magic in the life lotion that I used on that lump of lead that I used to turn it into gold for the bridle, to turn every human in the world into gargoyles! That takes some real doing! She was a real Unicorn alright, just look at that flashy new mark on her forehead, she's gonna be branded now for life!" 

"Mark?" Tigris asked with puzzlement, putting a paw to the silver star between her horns on her brow where her horn had been before Socrates had dispatched it, trying to feel it. 

"Yes dear, it'd look just charming with a pair of silver moon earrings." Sharm smiled, and then suddenly smacked her forehead. "Oh, I **_CANNOT_** believe I just SAID that!" 

Erik and May laughed, Tigris smiled. "That's the Sharm **I** remember." She shifted May's jacket around her, and pointed at Erik. 

Sharm put a hand over Erik's eyes. "No peeking, young man." 

Tigris handed May's coat back to her, and spoke another magic command. "Clothes!" Instantly, her loincloths reappeared belted around her, and she tied a small blue ribbon around her blonde hair. Sharm let Erik go, and looked at the hair band critically. 

"Ummmm, no..." Sharm said critically. "You need a matching green." 

"Oh hush. Fine time for you to be giving me fashion advice." Tigris shushed her. "You're the one that prefers I worship the phallus God, remember?" Sharm was insulted, folded her arms defiantly, her face bright red, but did not reply. 

"Uh... guys...?" Erik said, looking up at the stage. All eyes turned in that direction. 

The main curtain was billowing, changing color, almost like were made of water, and little concentric circles started to form like droplets were falling sidelong into that water. All of them lined up , facing the apparition. 

Tigris raised one paw in the air. "MY SWORD!" she commanded, and all at once her scabbard and sapphire hilted blade appeared in her paw, which she belted on. Sharm produced one for Erik, as she herself shimmered to Gargoyle form, and also wore a sword and scabbard. Sharm even handed a small amethyst hilted dagger to May, wrapped in a scabbard, and winked. "Just don't tell anyone where you got it. It's got iron in it." 

Little mouths appeared at the center of the rippling rings on the curtains. The mouths began to speak, using Socrates/Scott's voice. "Hey! I liked that sword!" 

Tigris stood defiantly. "My sword knows it's master and comes to me when I call it." she strode up the aisle to the Orchestra pit, looking up at the stage, her friends beside her. She pulled the sword half out of it's sheath, standing at attention. "Declare yourself!" 

The curtains parted, and there was Socrates and Plato again. "I am Socrates and this is Plato. We are here to deal with you once and for all." 

With a clear ring, Tigris and Erik's sword jumped from their sheathes, and the two warriors held them before them. "Come and face us then, human!" 

The two human boys on the stage vanished, but a voice remained. "Oooh, but we're not human!" 

There was a rushing of wind, and the terrain suddenly changed. The two gargoyles, human, and fairy were standing on the well-manicured lawn outside the gymnasium, where the waning moonlight and the breaking light of the dawn to come revealed the heavy construction machinery working at the new building site. There were three heavy machines, a backhoe, a bulldozer, and a wrecking ball. In the seats of each of these sat a woman in workman's garb, each with the same face, but different hair - gold, silver, and ebony. 

"The Weird Sisters! Find cover!" Erik exclaimed. 

Three CAT diesel engines roared to life, and three sets of treads were put into motion. The trio turned their heavy machinery in the direction of their prey, as they were busy hiding behind large steel pipes and concrete blocks. They began to circle the four repeatedly. As they did so, the ground began to seep with some kind of a gas. May began to wheeze first, and soon Erik and Tigris followed, followed finally by Sharm. 

"Poison!" 

"Made virulent by magic!" Sharm coughed, as she too began to be affected. "Even I'm vulnerable to it!" 

Tigris looked around for something she could do, but felt all the strength leave her body. She collapsed to the ground in a head, dropping her sword, staring up at the trees overhead. 

  
  


  
  


She managed to pull herself up - but without her body!!! 

  
  


  
  


Erik and May were there too, looking down at their own bodies. They looked at each other -- appearing like apparitions above their bodies, only half there. 

"Oh m-m-m-m--my G-G-G-G-God! Are we d-d-d-d-dead?" May stuttered in rising horror. 

Tigris looked around, quickly. "DON'T ANYBODY MOVE!!! As long as we can see ourselves we haven't moved on to the next life. I've been here before." 

"Twice in one night? You're not doing well, Tigris." Sharm noted comically. 

"What a time to joke, Sharm!" Erik exclaimed, pointing at her fallen self. "You're in the same predicament!" 

"LOOK!" Tigris exclaimed. 

As the poison gas dissipated, the trio in their heavy machinery began to circle inwards, moving objects out of their way sometimes with their machines or by their magic. Circling like hawks, ready for the slaughter. 

"Their going to pulverize our bodies while we're down, under those... things! We'll never survive this!" 

From nowhere came the sound of Socrates's insane laughter. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


What happened next was something of a blur to everyone present, or at least those who were half-present. Something like that. Out of the predawn moonlit trees - calm, proud, and tranquil as a summer's day, she slowly stepped out of the forest. The Unicorn - the original native Unicorn of these forests, stepped forth. Trees began to grow out of nowhere as she walked along. The Weird Sisters, turned, saw her, and tried to move in her direction, but the trees grew into enormous impediments that blocked the path of the heavy machinery. Luna actually rammed her backhoe into the trees, destroying the machinery, and was thrown to the ground as the fuel tank exploded in a ball of fire. Selene attempted to bulldoze one unsuccessfully, and Phoebe slung the wrecking ball at them, only to find the dents she made we small. The trees were enchanted. 

Confidently, the Unicorn skewered the bodies of each of the bodies with her horn in turn, and the floating spirits found themselves blinking their own eyelids again, and rising to a sitting position. When she was finished healing each of them, Tigris raced forward and embraced the Unicorn's neck. 

"My sister! I understand now! We are alike now, you and I!" 

Gently, the Unicorn nuzzled the gargoyle. "SO YOU ARE, MY CHILD. WE WILL FLY THE WIND TOGETHER SOMETIME." Her voice was still as gentle as ever, soft and caring, like a mother to a child. "BUT FIRST, YOUR DESTINY AWAITS YOU." 

Tigris turned to face the three evil sisters, having abandoned their construction equipment, and the associated garb, and had come flying in their direction. Tigris raised a talon in the air, and began to chant, her eyes aglow - this time with magic. 

** "Chains of iron!**

** Do as thy master wishes!**

** Form thyselves together,**

** And bind these witches!**

The chains that had bound Sharm appeared, hanging in Tigris's other paw, began to glow with light and magic, and then leapt out from Tigris's grasp, touching each one of the fay trio, drawing them together in a bundle, and locking themselves together in one endless chain, tightly around the three. 

Erik was aghast. 

"Where's Scott and Paul?" May asked. All five were startled when black smoke rose from the ground behind them where the construction equipment had been left behind, and the two humans appeared, walking towards them. 

Tigris grabbed her sword, and held it to Selene's throat. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" she ordered. 

Socrates and Plato stopped. "You're an innocent! You would never slay them!" Socrates shouted at her. "I saw myself - the unicorn came to you!" 

"Don't bet your sister's life on it." she replied. "I've killed in the heat of battle before. Are you willing to take that risk?" 

"ENOUGH!!!" came a booming voice that shook everyone nearly to the ground. The Unicorn raised her head, but did not become alarmed. The others shielded their eyes, as a brilliant portal opened, and out stepped a large man with blue skin and ornate tenth century clothes. 

The Unicorn nodded her head to him. "LORD OBERON." 

  
  


* * * 

  
  


"I have come to take back that which was stolen from my lady wife!" Oberon said, pointing in Socrates's direction. Making a motion to one side of him, the portal beside him closed, and another opened to his side, and a tall mirror with irregular right-angled sides appeared in the place of this second portal. "You and the rest of the Unseelie-sympathizers have disobeyed my wishes and made my life difficult for the last time! I commanded you not to touch the honor guard clan, of which Erik and Tigris are members, which you have nearly slain tonight. Each of you here are bound! Bound as humans until you learn to obey me properly!" 

Each of the Weird trio and the two humans boys were instantly aflame in magic, and started screaming in pain. The weird trio became the three school mistresses again. 

"Yes, my Lord." they each said in unison. 

Pacified, the Lord of the Third Race turned to face Sharm. Like the cat who had caught the canary, Sharm hid one hand behind her back, and waved at him with her fingers. "Uh... Hi..." 

"I'm disappointed in you Sharm." 

"Disappointed, My Lord?" 

"You were supposed to learn humility with the others, but you are still too proud." 

"P-proud, My Lord?" she stuttered. 

"Proud of your link with the human - your 'safety net' as you call it. I could easily break your link, but I have no wish to kill an innocent human." Oberon gestured towards Tigris. "You are too proud of your femininity - it clouds your judgement regarding my Honor Guard warrior Tigris, and led to this... incident." His voice was irritated still - he was obvious not happy with Sharm. 

Tigris walked up to the Lord of the Third Race, a smile crossing her lips. She stood beside the imposing blue figure, motioning to Sharm. "I'd say she needs a taste of how the other side lives, My Lord." 

"Very wise, young Tigris. You impress me with all that you have learned. Most of my children have already explored life as both, but your human upbringing clouded your judgement, Sharm. If you value the life of your human protectorate, you will listen to me. I think Tigris is wise." Oberon reasoned, rubbing his chin with his pointer finger and thumb. He thought for a moment, and then raised his hands out towards Sharm. 

Sharm began to shimmer slightly. Not very much, but a tiny glow. Her hair lost some of it's body and fullness, her face became sightly pointed and angular, her chain became slightly pointed, her legs and other curves thinned and became a little more muscular, her feet got a little bigger, her beasts lost their fullness, and her white blouse and violet dress shifted into a white tunic and violet leggings with a gold belt. 

Tigris giggled to herself. "You look like Puck!" 

Mortified, Sharm touched her chest. "But - NO! I'm in love! I can't...!!!!" she stopped, touching her throat, hearing the sound of her new, young masculine voice. 

"You WILL, Sharm. Once you can prove to me your humility, I will return your young womanhood." Oberon commanded. "Even puck knows how to be a young woman, and so you must learn to be a young man." 

Sharm, the boy, collapsed to the ground in a heap, and put his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. 

Erik felt sorry for him, and walked over to him, touching him on the shoulder. "It's not so bad... when you get used to it." Sharm decided to ignore THAT comment. 

"But I'm... I'm a woman! TRAPPED in a man's body!" Sharm protested. 

Tigris feigned forgetfulness, and scratched her chin with her talon. "Now where have I heard THAT cliché before?" she returned Sharm's previous evil laugh. Oberon smiled, enjoying the joke. "Oh, yes - **I** said it, and YOU told me to just adjust. Well Sharm, **ADJUST**!" 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Sharm wailed, but Oberon was unsympathetic. "Look, Papa Smurf, I'll...!!!" she began to threaten him. 

Oberon made a motion with his hand, and a gold band appeared across Sharm's mouth. The Lord of the Third Race had heard enough. "You dare to threaten ME Sharm?" 

Sharm's frame relaxed, and she lay on the ground in a heap. 

The Father of the Third Race walked forward, his robes swaying, towards Erik, and then turned back to Tigris. "Yes, I bless your union. This forest is to be your protectorate, Tigris - I command it." 

Tigris blinked in confusion. Union? What was he talking about? 

He then turned to the Unicorn. She nodded once more to him. "A good day then, Lord Oberon?" 

"Aye, cousin. These warriors shall serve thee well, fulfilling our bargain perfectly. They are yours. Fare the well." He bowed slightly to her, turned, walked over to his mirror, and vanished in a plethora of magic. The two human boys and the weird trio vanished as well. The damage to the construction equipment suddenly righted itself, and everything appeared normal on the school grounds. 

"Union? Protectorate? What does that mean?" Tigris asked the Unicorn. 

"YOU'LL FIND OUT ABOUT THE UNION PART IN DUE TIME. HE HAS COMMANDED YOU AND ERIK MAKE THE FORESTS HERE A PROTECTORATE OF YOURS, LIKE THE GUATEMALA CLAN GUARDS THEIR RAIN FOREST, YOU ARE TO GUARD THIS ONE. THAT WILL ALSO ALLOW YOU AND I TO SPEND SOME MOONLIGHT FLIGHTS TOGETHER NOW THAT WE ARE BOTH OF THE SAME BLOOD." she replied. 

Tigris nodded, looking into the forest, and nuzzling the unicorn. 

May shook her head. "Jalapeña! I'm glad that's over!" She helped Sharm, the boy, to her feet. "I'm just glad he didn't decide to start giving me lessons, either! God knows, I've had enough lately..." 

Puzzled, Tigris looked at the human girl. "Huh? What do you mean? That was Oberon - Lord of the Third Race." 

"Yeah, I know. We've met before." May said, brushing dirt off her coat. 

Tigris and Erik looked at each other. "How could you have met before? He's the king of Avalon! You only tangle with him if you have a death wish!" Erik exclaimed. 

May smiled, and looked up at the female gargoyle. "Don't you know who I am, yet?" 

Tigris paused, then smiled. "Demeter." 

The human girl shifted, and in her place stood Tigris's shoulder-friend, the tan colored female gargoyle with green wings. "What clue did you pick up on?" 

"The alicorn - you, more than anyone I know, would know what to do with an alicorn - you taught me just about everything I know. Although, how could I miss a name like May Hestia? Your handclasp? I'll bet you arranged this whole school girl/school boy scenario in advance just to get things ready." 

"THAT WAS MY DOING. YOU NEED TO FINISH YOUR HUMAN EDUCATION, AS WELL AS YOUR GARGOYLE ONE." The Unicorn added. 

"As long as I don't have to use the boy's locker room, I'm fine with it." Tigris smiled. She turned to Erik. "Come on - you'll have a good time. I can show you the way society works outside of school." 

"YOU ILLUSIONS WILL SHIFT TO YOUR GARGOYLE FORMS ON SUNDOWN UNLESS YOU USE THE RINGS. UNTIL YOU GRADUATE FROM COLLEGE, YOU BOTH WILL NOT TURN TO STONE DURING THE DAY." 

Tigris and Erik both nodded. "Gargoyle by night, school kid by day. We can always stay in the hidden room upstairs!" Tigris agreed. 

Demeter/May stepped over to Sharm, and hugged him. "Go visit Christine, they'll cheer you up. They're expecting you." 

Sharm vanished in a poof of magic, but her voice lingered for a moment. "When doesn't she?" 

That was when the sun peeked over the horizon. Demeter turned back into May, and the Unicorn watched as her two little protégé's became school girl and school boy again, with their book bags over their shoulders. "GO, CLASSES WILL BE STARTING." 

Each, in succession, kissed the Unicorn on the nose. "Until later!" Sandra/Tigris exclaimed as she, May/Demeter, and Eric/Erik ran off to the main building. 

The Unicorn smiled like a mother, watching her children go off to school in the morning before she vanished into the forest shadows. 

  
  


* * * 

Several weeks later. 

  
  


The lights were low, and the music was loud - but not too loud. The beat was heavy, and the air was hot around them. (Was it all the other people, or was it the two of them?) Tigris, as Sandra, wasn't quite sure. She was dressed in green velvet from the tips of her shoulders to her toes, with green velvet heels, black hose, her hair done up in golden ringlets with hints of silver. The back reached down teasingly, and the neckline hinted at better things to come. Her skin was milky white and she smelled of jasmine. 

She was being twirled about by Erik, as Eric, who - as it turned out - was not a bad dancer! He was dressed in a black suit with a matching green cummerbund, matching green button cover over the top button, and a tuxedo shirt underneath, and in his jacket pocket was the white rose Sandra had given him, and a matching one of baby's breath was around Sandra's wrist. 

  
  


__

My hands are tied   
My body bruised   
She got me with   
Nothing to win   
And nothing left to loose!   
And you give yourself away!   
And you give yourself away!   
And you give! And you give!   
And you give yourself away!   
With or without you   
With or without you   
I can't live   
With or without you!

  
  


As the song ended, Sandra paused, wrapped in Eric's arms, letting him hold her. She loved the feeling. She felt Eric's lips kiss her ear, and felt her body tingle at his touch. "I love you, Tigris Euphrates." he said. 

  
  


Tigris was stunned. Her? Eric, well Erik, knew that she used to be a boy - a human boy, even. Could he possibly be that blind? They always say love is blind. But is it really blindness? They'd only known each other for a couple of weeks now, but since their adventures with the Unicorn, they had gotten to know each other, and ever since then, she'd felt herself falling, falling helplessly out of control. 

  
  


  
  


**"Unicorn, oh Unicorn**

** If I fall in love tonight**

** Will I still fly with you?" **she silently prayed. All at once, and answer to her prayer came. 

"OF COURSE, MY CHILD. EVEN UNICORNS MUST REPRODUCE." 

  
  


  
  


They both added a new photo to their collections that night, time reading "With or Without You - 2020". 

After the dance was ended, the two walked up the stairs to their secret room, and closed the door behind them. Once the light was on, the two shimmered, and appeared as gargoyles again, dressed in their loincloths and breeches. 

"Oh, that was wonderful!" Tigris exclaimed, falling onto the couch with a dreamy look on her face. "I've never felt so alive! So full of energy!" 

Erik smiled, sitting on the couch next to her. He bent down, and kissed her full upon the lips. Tigris felt his tongue begin to search, and felt her body begin to tingle in a way she'd never dreamed possible. She was nothing but a puddle of quivering nerves now. 

"I think I've fallen in love with you." Erik said again. 

"Why?" she inquired, breathlessly. 

"Because your perfect! "You're intelligent, but at the same time naive, serious and at the same time funny, strong but in the same instant fragile and helpless, able to kill and able to nurture and cry. No other gargoyle I've ever met is like you." 

"You know I used to be a boy?" 

"I don't care." he replied, honestly. "I don't know him - I know you. You're perfect." 

"You know my family only seems to produce female eggs?" 

"I don't care!" he said again. "I want YOU! We can always adopt from another rookery." Erik stood, paced the floor for a minute, and sat down again, searching for the words he wanted. 

"Don't you get it?" he continued. "I don't want your body, I don't want who you used to be, I want you for YOU! ...Who you are now!" 

Tigris smiled. She remembered the dream she had when she had been returned from her Unicorn form to her proper gargoyle form. He had been the one singing to her, singing the words, "Love me - that's all I ask of you." For the first time, Tigris realized she loved him too. Tigris reached up and cautiously touched his chest. It had been a long time since she had touched the chest of a gargoyle male, and the last time it had happened, it had probably been his/her own. She felt an electric tingle inside her that filled her breasts. "I love you too, Erik of Avalon." 

Erik took her paw in his, and looked deeply into her baby blues. "Then you'll marry me?" 

How could she say no? 

  
  


  
  


**AVALON**

  
  


  
  


"What's the girdle for?" Tigris inquired, baffled. Gargoyles never have been able to invent panty hose that won't tear on their fetlocks - it would have to wait until they invented untearable Nylon. 

The forest-mint colored female gargoyle stood in front of a large set of tripe mirrors while five other gargoyles - Djali, Lysander, Obsidiana, Christyne, and Jade fussed and fussed with the stitches in the lace on the dress on a table. They would magically remove stitches, reposition lace, and then magically restitch them, and then find something wrong and start all over again. Tigris was dressed in a set of slips made for a gargoyle's dress, a large layer of crinoline to flare the skirt, and Keturah was using her feathered fingers to try and snug up the fasten on the girdle. 

"Oh, you are so naive, girl. Haven't you ever read a romance novel?" Keturah laughed. "OUCH!" she suddenly yelped. 

"Hundreds of them. Doesn't mean I understood it all." Tigris looked back in the mirror to see Keturah holding one of her feathered hands in her mouth, and a lone feather stuck in her girdle fastener. Tutela used two of her red talons to draw the feather out the right way and handed it back to it's owner. "You lost this, Ket." 

"Fat lot of good it does me now." she moaned. 

Tutela pulled on the girdle a little and shook her head. "What we need is someone with fingers." 

"Guess that'll have to be me." Christyne volunteered. The other girls filled in on around the table as Christyne went over to Tigris. Tigris started to try and help, but Tutela quickly batted her paws away. 

"Stop that! This is your wedding. Your job is to stand there and look as pretty as possible, and NOTHING else." 

"But..." Tigris began to protest, but Tutela would have none of it. 

Christyne instantly shifted to her human form, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes like she were going down the block to the store. Being a shape shifter obviously had it's perks. She easily tightened the girdle correctly. She didn't like her other forms, and she wasn't afraid to tell you so. Her self image was that of Malcora the gargoyle, and she stayed in that form pretty much of the time. It was also basically necessary in regards to her children, because she carried, bore, weaned, and raised the in her gargoyle form as well. 

"HOLD STILL!" Shayde chastised Tigris. Once again, Tigris straightened for her. Using the skill of many years, she had a few small brushes in her hand, and was gently dabbing something across Tigris's cheeks. Tigris couldn't see exactly what she was doing because she was facing sideways in the mirror so that she could see the other working behind her. 

"I sure wish I had Sharm's help." 

"He's helping with Erik." Demeter noted. Was there a note of laughter in her voice? 

"Now I know how a piece of paper feels." Tigris muttered. 

"We'll turn that paper into a masterpiece." Tutela corrected her. "A little talent, a little experience, and a dash magic for good measure. It's those first impressions that will last you both a lifetime." 

"We're gonna get it right this time, if it kills us all!" Demeter laughed from the table. 

"It just might." Ket muttered, looking at the sore spot of red on her hand. 

"Hopefully not." Tigris sighed. "Mother?" 

Tutela looked up from the girdle and crinoline skirt. "Hm?" 

"Am I doing the right thing?" 

"Cute! She's got the jitters!" Jade exclaimed. 

"Sí!" Obsidiana added in her lovely Latin accent. "Es getten wet feet!" 

"It's a good sign." Christyne said. "A very good sign. She was way too confident last time, and look what happened." 

"I'm serious!" Tigris said. "Am I going to jump in, and then have the same thing happen again?" 

Tutela positioned her dragon/gargoyle-like self in front of Tigris's field of vision. "How do you feel? Why are you doing this? Is there some reason you need to do this? You don't have to, you know." 

"I..." Tigris honestly couldn't think of but one answer to that. "I... I love him. A male..." 

"And you're a female." Tutela followed her train of thought. "That's very natural. He's a good boy - I like him a lot - Princess Katherine and the others raised him well. I think you chose very well." 

"It wasn't a choice... so much as... it just _**happened**_." 

"My girls deserve the best - all of them." 

"If he doesn't, I'll hunt him down an kill him." Christyne muttered, with pins sticking out of her teeth. 

"Please don't do that." Tigris replied. "I've been dead too many times - I don't want him to have to go through that again... for a long time." 

Tutela smiled. "You're doing fine. If you want to stop, we can, but tonight's the night - it's the altar or bust." 

"Don't say that mom, please." Tigris said, pulling the edges of her top slip and checking her reflection in the mirror. "Am I too small for him, you think?" 

Christyne looked up at her. "You're bigger than me." 

"Me too!" Keturah added, bluntly as ever. "Lucky sh** - you go straight from tissue paper to the boobs of the family. Besides - after a few hatchlings, you'll probably hang down to your waist!" 

Tigris blushed furiously. "How did you know about THAT?!!!" 

Christyne laughed. "I don't always foresee the future exactly. Besides, she's right." Christyne added. "Give it a couple hatchlings, and you'll probably grow to a C cup." 

"I just want him to like me." Tigris worried. 

"Honey," Lysander added, "I think he'll like you in a burlap sack. He's SO enamored with you." 

"But how long will that last?" Tigris asked. 

"Forever." Tutela answered. 

"How can you know?" 

Tutela held her daughter's chin between her thumb and pointer talon. "You believe in it, and never let go of that belief. How else do you think I go on?" 

There was a long silence in the room. Tigris sighed. "Poor daddy." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Erik's palms were dripping wet. Lord Oberon himself was here! They had sent him an invitation, not wanting to alienate such a formidable ally, and he had asked if he could give away the bride as she had no immediate father figure who would do it. It was, after all, his castle and his Island. Not long ago, Lady Titania had whispered something in his ear, and he had turned and left for the bride's dressing suite. That meant they were ready and the ceremony was starting. He checked his collar again. Sharm was sitting next to him, looking backwards, up the aisle, also waiting for things to start. 

"What could be taking so long?" Erik whispered to him. 

"Do you have any IDEA how hard it is to put one of those things on a gargoyle? Let alone a human?" he whispered back. "It's a whole night's work, that gets disassembled in ten minutes!" 

"Why? Why all that work for so little?" 

"The first impression is pretty valuable, Erik. I've got bets going on how low they can make your jaw drop." Sharm grinned. 

Erik scowled. Ever the tricky one. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


Lysander and Christyne carefully slipped the shoes on her feet, softly padded two-inch heels in a pearl color. The back of the dress was carefully laced and tied around her wings so as to allow plenty of motion without straining the lace in the bodice. The neck gently scooped down to provide a teasing glimpse of her cleavage through the lace without being provocative. The dress was sleeveless with ornate embroidery work and lace surrounding the bodice. She wore opera gloves made of a gaussy material that did not reach past the points on her elbows. She winced uncomfortably at the way it pushed her breasts around, but then... she wanted them so badly at one time, she'd best count her blessings. Lord Oberon stepped forwards with the veil. Tigris was led off the stand in front of the mirror, so that she wouldn't have to bend in the dress. Oberon was tall, but not THAT tall. With the veil in place, Christyne rose up in the air in her human form, fiddled with the arrangement slightly so that it worked with the tiara in the hair arrangement. Finally, she was given her large white rose bouquet, and led back to the stand and the mirrors. 

Christyne, in her human shape, hung in the air like a fairy, scratching her chin, looking at her. "There's missing something..." She snapped her fingers, and the whole outfit changed. All of the girls present suddenly cried out in consternation. Tigris looked in the mirror, and saw herself done up in a Mardi Gras dress with a big feathered blouse, wild hairdo, and a hat covered in fruit. Tutela shouted in consternation. Christyne snapped her fingers again. The outfit became a fur suit with a mask that looked like the face of a rat, including a covering for her tail, making her look like a rat from The Nutcracker Ballet with breasts and wings. Everyone shouted in consternation again. Christyne snapped her fingers a third time. This time a human girl appeared in an off-the-shoulder bright blue bare midriff with baggy pants, curly cloth shoes, a large sapphire set in her hair, and very long black hair done up in matching blue ribbons. Around her neck hung a heavy gold necklace, matching a pair of large gold earrings. 

"WHOA?!!!" Christyne shouting, madly shaking her head. "Where did THAT come from?" 

"Stop trying to improve, Chrissy! You're becoming more and more like Sharm every 

day!" Tutela shook her head at her eldest child. 

Tigris reappeared as herself. Lord Oberon and Lady Titania, at the end of the chamber, were chuckling a little to themselves as well. Christyne, hanging in the air just next to her shoulder, slipped a pair of brightly polished silver moon earrings into her ears, and nodded in satisfaction. She helped lift the veil for a moment - much more opaque than other veils she had seen - Oberon had insisted on that. Tigris gasped - she felt so... so... Elegant! 

"Splendid work!" "I love it!" the girls were saying to each other, admiring their collective work. 

Tigris searched her shape with her eyes, amazed. With the perfect touches of makeup, the dress, and whatever magic they had used, couldn't help but stare. She felt a smile creep across her lips. She looked so much prettier when she smiled, she concluded. There, between her horns was a brilliant silver star where her horn had been, and Sharm had been right - the earrings and diamond necklace did set it off perfectly. 

Smiling, she turned on the platform to face her sisters, both in blood and in rookery. "I'm ready!" 

"You still want to get married?" Tutela asked. 

Tigris was beaming. "Oh yes!" 

Tutela smiled in a self-satisfied way. "I thought you'd feel better once you saw the finished product." 

She turned to Oberon, who also smiled. "Listen to your mother, she knows best. Come now, Titania tells me Erik is ready and waiting to begin." 

  
  


Erik could not hear the music. He shifted uncomfortably as things were set into motion. There were too many people here - gargoyles and fay alike. A lot of the Miniclan, the Avalon Clan, and the children of Oberon himself. All he knew was the pounding of his heart. 

  
  


Tigris felt something nearly trip her as she began to walk in the dress, when she realized it was her tail hitting her sword. Her good Sapphire sword was in a white scabbard, and hung in place on the dress - per Miniclan tradition, that there be ceremonial battle dress present. There were even stories of weddings where those ceremonial weapons saw blood. Tigris shivered at the thought. In front were Jade and Lysander, followed by Djali and Obsidiana, lastly Demeter, the flower girls, followed by Christyne with the ring. Lysander's eye's met Lex's at the stand, and for just a moment old hatreds allowed to cool, if not for this one occasion. 

Tigris paced herself. Step, step, pause... step, step, pause... She saw Erik! Wow, he looked mighty dashing she thought, feeling her body heat up. Not now, she chastised herself, I'm saving myself for marriage. Step, step, pause... Step step, pause... Oh, why couldn't she just run up to him, kiss him, and end it all right now. Pace yourself, girl... Step step pause. Damn this cathedral is bigger than it looks... step step pause... She momentarily wished Erik had to do this same pomp... step step pause... 

  
  


SHE WAS RAVISHING! ABSOLUTELY HEAVENLY! Erik had no words to describe her beauty... except one... perfect. Tigris. His Tigris. He couldn't see much through her veil, but the silver star on her brow shone radiantly. His heart felt like it would leap out of his chest. He wanted to run to her... but no... he had to wait. 

After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the dais. The flower gar-girls were seated, Titania was holding Erik's arm, while Christyne and Sharm (the boy) held the ring pillows. King Gorebash once again stood over the ceremony, as he had before for Tigris's last wedding. Erik would have preferred Goliath himself, but he was... unavailable. 

  
  


Tigris wasn't listening to the sermon, as the two gargoyles knelt at the altar. Tigris felt suddenly tired and sick to her stomach. Was this right? 

"Do you, Erik, take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, under the eyes of God, for the rest of time?" 

"I do." he said, giving her a sidelong wink. 

Tigris panicked. Now it was HER turn. What would she say?!!! It was if she were on stage and suddenly had forgotten her lines. That had happened to her once in a grade school play, and she had been so embarrassed.... 

"Do you, Tigris Euphrates, take this man to be your husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, under the eyes of God, for the rest of time?" 

Oh, Dammit! She was on! The question! Did she? Could she? Would she? But all it took was one look in his seductive, deep green eyes, and she couldn't say no. 

"I do." 

Erik turned to Sharm, who handed one gold band to him, and Tigris did the same, turning to her sister. 

"With these tokens, do you seal a solemn vow of love, that in the eyes of whatever God watches over and protects Gargoyles - the protectors of mankind, the hunted, the hated, and the scorned, may you be blessed by him or her for the rest of time. May there be a home, somewhere, for two souls in love, no matter how different they may be - a heaven for rich and poor, male and female, gendered and transgendered, human, gargoyle, and elf. May you watch over one another, and together find happiness. You may kiss the bride." 

He was talking to her, Tigris realized with a start. Gendered and Transgendered, human and gargoyle... she and Erik were all those things... 

  
  


Erik lifted the veil, and the lovely face of his bride, with tears rolling down her cheeks. She dabbed her face with a tissue for the thousandth time during the ceremony, and looked up at him with those wonderful baby blue eyes of hers. She waited, longingly, while Erik moved every so slowly. Tigris seemed to hang on this as it were final word that he loved her. 

As if there was any question. 

Erik gently leaned over to her, and their lips met. A loud cheer went up, but the two didn't even notice. Tigris finally let go her inhibitions. She was married - she didn't give a Sh** anymore! She threw her arms around his neck, and the kiss lasted for several very long seconds. 

The couple turned to their audience, and there was relative quiet. "MY BRIDE! LADY TIGRIS OF THE HONOR GUARD OF AVALON!" 

"MY LORD!" she replied, and the cheering went up anew. 

With a deft scooping motion, Erik picked Tigris, who yelped, up in his arms and ran across down the aisle. With a flinging motion of her wrist, Tigris flung her the bouquet, and where it went she had no idea, as she watched it go. It flew threw the air, almost as if on a string, and landed right square in Keturah's lap. Startled, she looked - her eyes glazed, and a smile crossing her lips. She already had tears in her eyes, but now they were happy tears. "THANK YOU!" she exclaimed, screaming in excitement. 

At the end of the hall, Erik stopped and let her down. "Wha... what are you doing." Tigris asked, confused. Erik shushed her, and she was quiet. Erik placed one of her legs on a chair, and stuck his paw up her dress. Tigris gasped in shock, but Erik quickly found what he was looking for. There was a snap, and Tigris felt the girdle slide free. He'd cheated! - he used a talon to cut the girdle off! Tigris sighed, "Oh, NOW I get it!" Now she knew what the girdle was for! He'd run with her down the aisle so that everyone else wouldn't see up her dress. He slung it at the men's side of the chapel, not really knowing where it would land... which was right into Sharm's face. Startled, he picked the bit of lingerie off his face, and blinked several times stupidly. Tigris thought he looked exceptionally cute. 

"But..." Sharm whispered to himself. 

They had a forest - and a Unicorn to protect. Tigris held open her arms for Erik once more. "Take me, or we'll be buried in rice!" she exclaimed. Erik did so, and they were out the door, up the stairs, and off the battlements into the air to the skiff waiting by the shore. Of course the skiff had already had any number of aluminum cans tied to it, but Erik sat his bride down in the boat, lifted it out into the water, and jumped in. 

As they entered the mists, the crowd had gathered on the beach. The last thing the crowd saw of them as they went out of sight was Erik raising one paw to them in leave-taking. 

  
  


*** Epilogue ***

Washington state: later that night. 

  
  


  
  


Tigris Euphrates had been blindfolded by her lover on the skiff, as he knew exactly where they were going. She giggled and laughed, allowing herself to be courted. To be honest, she thought she knew where they were going too, but she kept quiet about it. He carried her - enormous dress and all, up over the lip of the skiff - dousing his suit in the water, and carrying her along the steep black rocked bluffs near Port Angeles. They had a forest - and a Unicorn to protect, but Erik, however, was concerned with the other Unicorn - HIS Unicorn. 

The secret upstairs attic room at the high school on the Pacific coast now featured one of the magical presents that had been presented them at the wedding. It was a large four-poster bed. There were also matching couches and chairs. The couple were turning this room into their little sanctuary - forever hidden away from the world. Tigris was a little surprised to see all the effort Erik had put forth to prepare the room for tonight as she found herself being un-blindfolded, and she was very pleasantly surprised. She sighed to herself. He knew exactly what spot would mean the most to her. He was so sweet. Sure, she may have rushed into their marriage, but she didn't regret it - not for one single second. 

He set out candles and incense, the air smelled of trees and forests. She knew exactly what was going through her lover's mind - he was trying to make everything just PERFECT. She had done the same thing at Iolair and Tigris's honeymoon a decade before. She remembered how she had felt then - she wanted more than anything to get her paws on the old Tigris and explore every part of her body. With some amusement, Tigris Euphrates noticed Erik was feeling this same way, from the little ways that his hands twitched with excitement as he tried to make everything ready. There was one critical difference, though. At her first honeymoon, Tigris had felt unabidable tension at playing the part of the aggressor - the male, when she wanted the part she found herself in tonight. Tonight that feeling was absent, and was replaced by something wonderful and euphoric - this was IT! This time it was RIGHT! 

There was music, but it wasn't real, Tigris was sure of that. Tigris wasn't sure if she was hearing it or not - if she was hearing voices or not, but there was a drumbeat somewhere, and voices - Gaelic, chanting old melodies. It was almost as if Tigris felt her mother hanging over in spirit singing to her in the old tongue. 

She felt Erik's talons gently unlacing the leather laces that fastened together the back of the dress - so carefully placed there by her girlfriends earlier that day. She felt a twinge of cold air hit her bare gargoyle skin, and felt the laces slipped around the base of her wings. She flexed them twice, letting the laces fall free. 

Erik's suitpants were ruined. Tigris deduced she could probably fix them with a little household magic. Erik had undone the top of his shirt slightly, letting open a few buttons. He was sweating. Tigris, again, understood just how he was feeling. He was tense, but doing his best to make sure he was as slow as tact allowed. Tigris smiled to herself. That was good - slow was exactly how she wanted it. She wanted to be unwrapped like a Christmas present, not displayed for him like a side of beef. 

Gently, the Avalon raised gargoyle picked her up under her knees, and set her gently down in the soft folds of the bed, and gently kissed her several times. His arms were still wrapped around her waist, and she kept hers around his shoulders. Oh, he was not a large built gargoyle like Phantom or Goliath like Tigris had always found herself lusting after in the part. While small, Erik was enough, and she loved the feel of him. The touch of his skin against hers felt like magic! Tigris felt the star on her brow radiating a magical glow. 

Erik paused, a puzzled look on his face, looking in her eyes. Tigris was suddenly alarmed. What had she done? Had she been too passive? Was there something they were forgetting? Did he find her unattractive? A hundred horrific scenarios suddenly flashed through her mind, as she panicked. She'd been afraid of this! Tigris began to feel everything fall apart around her. "Whatever is the matter? Don't you like me?" she pleaded, almost in desperation. 

"Of course I do, my love! I was just wondering if I was getting the fair end of this deal." he replied with a gentle smile. 

"What deal?" Tigris asked, confused. 

"Me and you. Is being a female so much better than being a male?" 

Tigris blinked. She hadn't expected THAT to come up. "It has it's ups and downs. Try having a period sometime - or breasts." She almost laughed at herself for how much she worried about them! 

"You seem to enjoy it." Erik retorted. 

"True. Why do you ask? Do you wanna try it?" She grinned like the Cheshire cat. 

Erik laughed. "_Hell_ no!" 

Tigris smiled, closing her eyes. "Then shut up and kiss me, you fool." 

No more talk of darkness   
Forget these wide-eyed fears   
I'm here - nothing can harm you   
my words will warm and calm you   
Let me be your freedom   
let daylight dry your tears.   
I'm here, with you, beside you,   
to guard you and to guide you... 

_Say you love me   
every waking moment   
turn my head   
with talk of summertime   
Say you need me   
with you, now and always   
promise me that all you say is true   
that's all I ask of you..._

Let me be your shelter   
let me be your light.   
You're safe: No one will find you   
your fears are far behind you 

_All I want is freedom,   
a world with no more night...   
And you, always beside me   
to hold me and to hide me_

Then say you'll share with me   
one love, one lifetime   
let me lead you   
from your solitude...   
Say you need me   
with you, beside you   
anywhere you go,   
let me go too   
Christine, that's all I ask of you... 

_Say you'll share with me   
one love, one lifetime   
say the word and I will follow you   
Share each day with me   
each night, each morning,   
Say you love me_

You know I do 

**Love me   
that's all I ask of you**

**Anywhere you go   
let me go too   
Love me   
that's all I ask of you...** ****

("All I Ask of You", the Phantom of the Opera) 


	10. Cross of Changes

Writing begun on: February 3, 2000   
Writing completed on: February 9, 2000   
This version is current as of: February 29, 2000

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

This fanfic is rated for all audiences, though it does contain a fair amount of violence and some mild language. I would recommend it be rated PG. 

  
  


****

April 23, 2034 

  
  


The Shelton family gathered themselves around the room. Some of the children were in tears. Some of the adults had violently protested. Nevertheless, a family reunion was taking place, and three generations began to fill a single hall, in a steady trickle. This family reunion would bear no photos, no laughter, no picnics, and no long nighttime glides together. This family reunion was unplanned, unwelcome, and unnecessary as some would argue. 

On the left side of the hall was the clan native to this home - the Salt Lake City clan. It was composed of Tutela, age 56, Christyne and her mate Phantom who were eternally locked at 25, and their children clustered about their feet, including Tanya (16), Corala (15), Carribea (13), Pacifica (11), Atlantica (8), Mediterrea (6), Artica (3), and in Christyne's arms was a small boy named Indiana, of about ten months. Of course, these were their apparent ages, even though they were all much older. There were also two pseudo-humans in this clan, who's ages were apparent, Keturah (44), and Mandy (63). Mandy showed her age with a little more dignity, then Ket. 

Next to them was the Olympia clan, led by their father Erik (29) and mother Tigris Euphrates (25). They had four children, but unlike Christyne, theirs were much younger and closer together in age, Jasmine (2), Magnolia (14 months), Rose (8 months), and Daisy (2 months). The latter of these was taking nourishment from her mother, who was seated on one of the tables along the wall, singing softly to her two nurselings. 

Tutela and Christyne were in charge, none too happy with the circumstances, but determined to see them through. Christyne, the salmon-pink gargoyle with fluorescent pink hair and eyes was pushing a wheelchair with an IV bag hanging from it. Tutela walked along side as the two guided the wheelchair into the dining hall. 

The infirm man in the wheelchair was impressed at the dining hall. "You built all this?" 

"Yes, me and my husband." Christyne explained. 

The old man looked around at all the gargoyles standing in the hall. He was taken aback. "These are all... family?" 

"Well, Mandy, the young human over there, she's just a friend." 

"Chrissy, baby - young I ain't." she smiled. 

"I remember her." he said. "The children... are so young..." 

"Gargoyles age at one half the speed of humans." Tutela explained. "That's why Ket and Mandy are so much older than the others." 

Tigris Euphrates stood up with her nurseling in her arm, and Keturah went over and stood beside her, both facing the elderly man. "My children..." he said. 

"We are." Christyne explained, Tutela at her side. "What's on the outside is a mask, look beyond it and see the heart inside - we are your family." 

"Are you Matthew?" he asked, referring to the gargoyle woman nursing the child. 

Tigris nodded in the affirmative. "I am." 

"Why are you a woman?" 

She shrugged, paying more attention to her baby than him. "Things happen." She honestly didn't think about that anymore - she had changed sexes over two decades ago. 

"Why are we here?" Keturah asked. "I am needed on Avalon." 

Christyne gestured to the man in the wheelchair. "Michael asked to see his children and his grandchildren. There is no genetic recombinant yet that can cure his type of cancer." she turned to all the children. "Your grandfather Michael is dying." 

Tigris scowled. "I'd hoped to keep the children away from this." 

Christyne shook her head. "I can see no reason not to grant his request. Every man deserves a final request. His time is very close, I know it." 

Tigris returned to her small family, where some of her young girls were softly sobbing. She was obviously pregnant again, and her lover doted over her. 

"Can't you help him with magic?" Mandy inquired. 

"I want none of your sorcery to keep me alive - let me die in my own time." Michael replied firmly. "Though I can see my family has become a breeding ground for sorcery." 

Tigris was angry - she didn't want to stand there and let him insult her, let alone her children. Christyne, however, was more level headed. 

"A combination of science and sorcery, actually." Christyne explained. "Just as we are a mixture of human and gargoyle. We all carry a very small sidearm - a laser device with just a touch of sorcery in it." 

"You each carry a sidearm?" He asked, incredulous. 

"The adults, yes." Tigris explained, holding her nurseling close. "SOME have not made it easy for us to defend our families!" 

Tutela's paw went up to Tigris. "Enough, now. Put away your personal feelings for now, daughter. Can we please try and make this a little more pleasant for all involved?" 

"Besides," Phantom pointed out, interposing his large blue frame between the arguers. "This vengeful backbiting accomplishes nothing. Vengeance, anger, and hatred only beget themselves again. This is something we should know by now, even if our human cousins have not. Even the Weird Sisters knew this. Let's not fall into the same cycle." 

Christyne nodded in approval, and nuzzled her mate slightly. 

Michael, his elderly wrinkled face twinkling with intelligence, looked up at him. "What do you see in my daughter?" 

"She is highly resourceful, astonishingly intelligent, a creative thinker, and is slow to judge a person until she really knows them." Phantom replied, a very well thought out answer. 

Michael turned to Erik, Tigris's mate. "And you? What do you see in my son?" 

Erik looked at Tigris, who's eyes flickered for a moment on Erik's, before returning to their suckling child, Daisy. Both Daisy and Rose were not yet weaned, but for the moment Rose was in a perambulator soundly sleeping. Erik stood, and addressed Michael in a very reserved tone. 

"I don't know - I've never met your son. I wed a woman. I have never known her to be anything else. She may not be the genius that Christyne is, but she has a heart of gold as wide as the oceans. That is why I married her. Even for a gargoyle, she is one of the most human individuals I have ever met." he answered honestly. 

Michael smiled, and turned to them all. "I am not here to make your lives sorrowful, but I had to know some things. I had to know what had become of my family. Now I need to make certain that you are protected after I leave." 

"To protect is the gargoyle's way of life." Phantom offered, intellectually. Ever the poet. "Any gargoyle who does not is corrupt." 

"Then ours was meant to be a family of gargoyles, then." Michael smiled. "Because we are a family of protectors. Ever since Terra met that first clan back around the time Matthew was born, I knew then that we were a family of protectors. We will take in any in need of help and give them the shirt off our backs." 

"And in return, I think we've been given quite a lot over the years." Tutela said, gesturing to the marble-tiled caves all around them. "And I don't mean just momentarily. We have a large family - two whole clans worth! I have eleven grandchildren, and now Christyne has decided to go on birth control for a while, Tigris has one egg in the family rookery, and Tigris is expecting another." 

"You kinda have to start believing in birth control, I discovered, after you realize that immortality gives you a real idea of what never growing old really means. Sharm taught me a lot of that nearly 400 years ago." Christyne explained. "Einstein was right - time is a crock of sh**!" 

Tigris shrugged at Tutela's comment. "I always wanted to be the mother of a large family. I don't know if we'll have a eight of them, like Chrissy, but I enjoy being a mother. I find it very fulfilling." 

Michael nodded in approval. He turned to Ket. "And you?" 

"Well, I'm a little old to start a zoo, but I would like to find someone and settle down. Unfortunately most of the men I know are either non-human, or live in some far off place that it gives 'long distance relationship' a whole new meaning. I do try and keep busy though." 

"Even if you don't, Ket - you tried." Michael soothed her ruffled feelings on the matter. "That's what counts." 

"I still think you should have given Kachina Coyote more of a chance." Christyne commented. 

"He's hot on some medical student named Beth Maza. Besides, you know how I feel about you tricksters. You were always so serious until you became one of them, and then you can become so clownish at times it drives me nuts!" 

Christyne shrugged. "Then steal his heart! Even Oberon is vulnerable to the magic of a woman! Besides, I just want to have a little fun. It gets tedious after the first three hundred years or so. I know when to joke, and when not to." 

"Not to mention all that magic you joke around with...!" 

"I **could** cast a love spell on you." 

Keturah's eyes went wide. "Don't you **DARE**!!!" 

"Just kidding." Christyne giggled a little at the thought of the handsome Kachina Coyote doting and fawning all over her little sister. 

Michael was smiling, some of the tension had left the room. "I know you don't trust me, Tigris. To be honest, you have no reason to - I'm the one who shot the original Tigris, and I'm sure you spent many years stirring in anger over that. Now things are different - I'm dying myself, and I want to end the hating and the hunting. I want to be with and protect my family in any way I can before I go." 

Tigris looked at him, but said nothing. Erik held his mate's shoulders. The old Tigris of Cassandra's clan had died close to 23 years ago, but it was the first time she had died, when she had taken Michael's bullet meant for young Matthew, that Tigris Euphrates was having difficulty forgiving Michael for. She still had nightmare (daymares?) about the man with her father's face firing a shotgun at her. 

Christyne looked at her sister sympathetically. "It's time to make peace, younger sister." 

"I hear you." Was all she said. 

"I'm sorry about what I did to my family, and now I want to make it better. I wish I'd done it... a long time ago. I'm especially sorry about what I did to you, Tigris - especially because I know the bullet that would have slain Tigris was originally meant for you. That troubles me, but I am happy to see you are... happy." 

"Hey, better late than never, sis." Christyne had to hand it to Michael, he was really trying. She was sympathetic to her sister as well, she was the one who had suffered the most from the division in the Shelton family. Christyne hoped... really hoped that it would finally, once and for all, come to an end. 

"Besides, Matthew. I did not spend my life hunting you, I hunted Christyne. I had deluded myself into thinking she was the whole problem. Then... I got sick." he sighed. 

"I know you don't trust him, I'm not sure I do either, but for the sake of a dying man's last wish, please at least listen." Christyne encouraged. 

Tigris wrapped the gargoyle infant in her arms up tight in her blankets, and lay her in the arms of her mate. Young Daisy had stopped feeding, and had drifted off to sleep. Erik, in turn, laid her in the Pram beside Rose. After straightening her blouse for a moment, she turned to Christyne. Tigris looked very much like a mother. Christyne counted herself lucky when she noted what motherhood had done to her sister's body - it had not been kind to her. Her breasts were very large compared to what they had always been, and they sagged a great deal. Her hips had grown quite large, and she'd gained some weight on her lower half. She was not fat, but motherly. Christyne had managed to keep her gargoyle form looking quite good after her first five, but after that Christyne had become immortal, and no matter how many eggs she laid, she couldn't change her figure for better or for worse, and so she'd laid the last three without gaining or losing a single ounce. Tigris, however, simply did not have the experience she did at keeping her figure, and in the end it was Tigris's body itself which betrayed her. Such was the lot of being mortal - Christyne hadn't aged a single year day since then, and Tigris had only just turned Christyne's age just two months ago. 

Tigris regarded them with a conservative look, folding her arms over her breasts. "I accept your apology." 

"Listen to me, very carefully, all of you. There are still hunters and quarrymen. I spent my life tracking Christyne down, and regret to say that they know where you live. They have some kind of new scientific-type weapon they have invented, and they are building it, intent on destroying you. It's my fault, and I want them stopped. I am charging you with this attack." 

Erik shook his head. "This is very different from defending our homes - this is an attack, not a defensive." 

"Would you rather harry them at your doorstep?" Tutela put in, in defense of Michael. 

"I do not know when their construction will be finished, but I know it will be soon. There is a large petroleum refinery near Gallup, New Mexico, and the Hunters have built their hidden base there to build whatever it is they have invented. They will attack as soon as it is finished. That's all I was told. They don't have much respect for their elders..." 

"We might call on the Hot Water Clan - they aren't but a couple hundred miles from there - they might be able to help." Mandy suggested. 

"One hundred eighty nine, according to the computer." Christyne said. "I've already tried to reach them, and I can't get ahold of anyone." 

"Do you think they have been hurt by them?" Asked Tanya. The young green daughter of Christyne's was already showing signs that she was not going to be left alone on this adventure. This was the biggest thing that had come along in - what - a decade? The teenager had decided she was ready. 

"It's possible." Christyne said, "But with all the activity between Hunters and Quarrymen in the thirty years, I think it's also very likely they have enough problems of their own. Remember, they don't live in very friendly territory, Tanya." 

"Do you think I should enlist Kachina Coyote?" Keturah offered. 

"It may come to that." Christyne said. 

"Then who's going?" Tigris asked. 

Christyne looked at her sister. "YOU'RE not." 

"I most certainly am!" she protested. 

"Not while you're pregnant AND nursing two children, you're not! That's three lives in your paws, not counting yourself." Erik rebuked her. 

"I'll help watch her." Tutela offered. "I may be over fifty, but that doesn't mean I've lost my edge." 

"**IF** Tigris goes, we'll all watch her and her youngones." 

Keturah and Mandy looked at each other. Mandy spoke up. "Do you honestly think you can keep Tigris here while the rest of us go off to a firefight with gargoyle haters? No offense, Erik and Chrissy, but you have got to be kidding!" 

Tigris appeared vindicated, and smiled. Christyne, the unofficial leader, relented. "Very well, Tigris you may come along, but when we near a dangerous situation, I want you to lay LOW and NOT get involved, is that understood? You are too important to take chances on right now. I too have Indiana, but he is weaned, and my girls can take care of him." 

The pregnant female agreed with as much grace as her slightly portly frame could achieve. 

"I will also agree to let my children come along. Tanya and Corala are nearly of age to be on their own, and we may also need their rather unique specialties on this quest." 

"I was fighting bloody battles right beside the Queen of Gargoyles herself when I was eleven!" Tigris pointed out. "I don't see why this is any different." 

"True, and perhaps the age of decision is the right age at which to let our children participate in these affairs." Phantom offered. 

Tutela was the one who shot this down. "No, I'm not comfortable with this, and I don't think Christyne is either. Perhaps, when Chrissy and I were in less dangerous times, we'd let the children help us dispose of the enemy when they passed their sixteenth year - when they turn eight, as humans reckon." 

"Let's keep it in human reckoning. Otherwise you make my head hurt." Keturah complained, holding her temples. 

Tutela continued, "But these are very dangerous times, and gargoyles no longer thrive. We MUST be very careful to protect our numbers, and if that means shielding our younglings, then so be it! I move Tanya stays here." 

Tanya was furious. "Then how do we learn?" 

Christyne and Tutela shared an incomprehensible look. "Their my daughters. I think they are ready. I'm the one who has to make the final decision, and I know my daughters better than you do. I think Tanya and Corala are ready. However, I am not blind to compromise - if we meet serious danger, I want Tanya and Corala to remain with, and protect Tigris and her nurselings, understood?" 

Tanya and Corala walked over next to Tigris and nodded. Christyne noted her daughters were taller than her sister. 

"Mother! Can't I go?!!!" exclaimed Carribea, who came bounding up to her mother's fetlocks on all fours. "I'll be really useful! I can make this thing just wink out of existence!" 

Christyne leaned down and patted her daughter's head. Carribea and Indiana did not have hair, though Indiana had a special hornplate on his brow. Christyne rubbed the skin on her daughters head gently. "No, honey, not this time. Next time, okay?" 

"But...!!!" she began to protest, but Christyne shushed her. 

"You are getting to be as big as your sisters, yes. I will also agree you will be a big help to us someday - I won't even need to worry about obtaining materials someday with your help. However, right now you are too young and impetuous. Remember what happened building those laser arrays?" 

Carribea sighed. "You guys don't forgive, do you?" 

"We have forgiven you dear, but this is for your own protection as well as ours. What would you do if you did something that caused, say Tigris, Tanya, and Corala to be hurt? Or even killed? How would that make you feel?" 

Carribea fidgeted uncomfortably. "Pretty bad, I guess." 

"I don't want you to feel that, so that's why I'm **asking** you to stay here." Christyne coaxed her child. 

"I understand." she acquiesced, stepping back over with her sisters and brother. 

Tutela smiled approvingly at how Christyne had raised her gargoyle children. There was even a smile on Michael's lips. 

"Okay then, it's settled. Tutela, Christyne, Phantom, Tanya, Corala, Erik, Tigris and her two nurselings, Keturah, and Mandy. Nine is a fair clan for our attack. I'd like more, but I don't think we can risk any more." Erik put in, counting. 

"It's what we ran with during the fay war." Phantom concluded. 

"What about the dragon?" Mandy inquired. "Could she come with us?" 

"No, but as long as the other children are staying here, she will guard our home. Otherwise, she'll stay down in the rookery. She may even have the children stay in the rookery in case of serious trouble." 

Christyne's children and Tigris's looked at each other in agony - they did NOT want to be sent back to the rookery. "We'll protect caves, with Xylana mom!" Carribea offered. 

"I'm sure you will, honey." Christyne smiled. "Make sure you behave for Xylanamalthiatibia, and that I won't hear from her about how misbehaved my children are, okay?" The children nodded. "There's one thing you can do for me right now, Carribea, can you give me nine two handed units like we were working on the other day?" 

Carribea bounded excitedly from one side of the room to the other, where a table sat empty. Tigris silently wondered if the young gargoyle ever walked bipedally. She looked at the table top, and nine large hand weapons appeared. Each was about the length of her wrist to her elbow, and encased in a white metal Tigris could not name. It had a few red and green lights at the top, and a button or two. Christyne began to show Erik how to use it, but Tigris found her sister's work fairly self explanatory. Tigris set the safety, spun it by the handle a few times for effect, and clipped it to her belt. "I prefer a sword." 

"What's the old saying?" Phantom smiled. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight?" 

"You're going NOW?" Michael asked. 

"As you said, there's no time to loose. I don't fool around father, I don't waste time. Don't worry, we'll be back soon." Christyne answered. "Xylana will take care of you if something happens, just as long as you don't piss her off. I won't be responsible for her actions if you do. She has a short temper with people sometimes." 

"Thanks." he muttered. Christyne laughed and kissed him on the forehead. "Carribea - take care of the kids now, you're in charge while we're gone." 

"Sure, momma!" 

Tigris handed a bag of things to Carribea for her to use to watch after the two of her children she was leaving under her care. 

With that, seven gargoyles, and two humans gathered at the center of the room. "Everybody hold hands. It makes it easier." Tanya said. 

They did so, and promptly were covered in flames as they winked out of existence. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The night was cool, but not cold - and for that Mandy and Keturah were glad. They had dressed fairly warm. They were in a land of tall sandstone cliffs and river valleys. The cliffs were sheer drops, as thought the mountains themselves had shot straight up out of the flat valleys below. There was not much sign of civilization here, with the exception of a few small houses occasionally, most often with large propane tanks in the back, and which probably did not get much power. The gargoyles took to the wing, as did Keturah, and Christyne let Mandy ride piggy-back. There was very little conversation. Phantom took his weapon and drew back the bolt on it, and Mandy heard it whine from a lower to a higher note. 

"Particle weapons, Ms. Loco Scientifico?" Tigris asked Christyne, her children safely stowed away and sleeping soundly in a cloth sack on her back which fastened around her shoulders and waist, and around the shoulders and waist of the child within it's warm wrappings. Christyne was annoyed once again Tigris and her friends from the Miniclan who called her that - but she knew Tigris meant nothing by it so didn't get angry... just annoyed. 

"Yes. Remember that technology firm in Manhattan, Sharm introduced me to? Same idea, though I spiced it up a bit with magic." she replied. 

"How is Sharm, anyway?" Tigris inquired. 

"After she married Puck, they went off to visit friends in Manhattan, and they've lived there ever since. She invited me to the wedding of a friend of hers there, and I attended sheerly because he was the boss of the company that invests in a lot of my work." 

"David got married again?" 

"Apparently his former wife was killed in a helicopter crash. Sharm said there was magic involved in it too. David's apparently much happier now, and Sharm says he's a real good father to David's son." 

...And that was about it for small talk. Sharm had been trapped as a male for several years since Tigris had rescued her from the Unseelie supporters by Oberon's hand, and between the two of them managed to talk Oberon into letting them both go a few years later when they saved Lord Oberon from a fairly nasty fate at the hands of space aliens or something. Mandy was all confused on the details from there. Not that she discounted the possibility - no, since Christine became a gargoyle almost forty years ago, she believed very strongly in the adage "all things are true". However, Mandy just wasn't too sure of the hows and the whys. She did know Oberon was vulnerable to iron, and iron could be manipulated in all kinds of scientific ways. 

Anyway. Once returned to themselves, Puck still had to train David's son in some way Mandy didn't understand, but Sharm seemed more than happy to live with that arrangement as long as she had back her womanhood, and Puck could be by her side. From there, another wedding was imminent. Sharm hadn't seen too much of the Shelton's since that time. If it was because of a grudge against Tigris or from just being busy only Sharm knew, but Mandy didn't think Sharm was the type to harbor a grudge. 

Christyne and Phantom was in the lead, guiding mostly by instinct, and they soon found themselves following a road through the mountains along the gulley floor. The sage brush was getting thicker here as they traveled north, deep into what must be Indian country. It wasn't very hard to miss a semi tanker moving along that winding road, and for a while they followed it. 

"I'd give ten dollars to know what he's hauling." Christyne pointed out. 

"I can find out!" Corala offered. 

Christyne nodded in approval. "Hurry back and don't let yourself be seen!" 

Tigris drifted over by her. "What abilities do the others have?" 

"Pacifica is a telepath - a mind reader. She can also place her thoughts into your mind." Christyne explained. 

"Atlantica can become totally invisible when she wants to. Chrissy and I had to install detectors in the caves to figure out where she was hiding from us whenever she threw a fit. Heat sensors were useless - she doesn't give off any radiation whatsoever - it's almost as if she has no substance, but she can sure knock things over! We were able to detect her using the sound of her movements, or her breathing." Phantom also explained. 

"Mediterrea seemed to not have any special or unique abilities for many years, so we just trained her in using her magic for a long time, until one day something happened." Christyne went on. "Sometimes I would speak to Phantom in Gaelic when I didn't want the children to understand, but that day Mediterrea had wanted a cookie, and -- in Gaelic -- I told Phantom not to give her one either, because I knew she would go right to her father for permission. She went right up to Phantom and asked him, as I expected - in GAELIC!" Christyne said with excitement. 

Phantom laughed at the memory. "Mediterrea had no idea what she had done, but it was perfect Gaelic, no gargoyle accents like me and Chrissy tend to use - you know, our own little mode of speaking? Gaelic is a dead language, there was no way she could have learned it." 

"Several months later, I brought my cat over to visit." Mandy put in. "She not only spoke to the cat, but was able to talk to me in Feline as well!" 

"She can communicate in ANY language - be it human or animal, vocal or movement based." Christyne was proud of her daughter. "Fay are not omniscient, unless they've been to that century and learned the language, they can't speak it anymore than I can speak Ancient Greek. I'd have to use a spell, and I would only speak English, and the listener would hear Greek." 

"I've used that spell more than once, and I don't think it works for animals." Tigris nodded. "And Artica? Has she shown any signs yet?" 

"Oh yes!" Christyne exclaimed. "Playpens are useless on her. She can walk right through a wall, and there's nothing I can do to stop her. Fortunately, so far she respects her mother when she puts up a barrier, but she done it a few times - she's still visible, she just seems to change the vibration of her body's molecules just enough to get past something. A locked cookie jar has no effect if she's determined disobey her mother." 

Just then Corala returned with a small marble-sized sphere of some kind in her hand. "I never went near the truck. He never saw me. I just drew it straight through the tank liner. He'll never know I took any." 

"Good job, honey!" 

"She." Phantom corrected her. 

Corala blinked. 

"The truck driver's a she." Phantom corrected her. 

Tigris momentarily wondered how he knew that, but repressed the urge to ask. 

Corala handed the small marble to Christyne, whereupon it instantly became fluid again once leaving Corala's paws. In Christyne's paw, she stirred the fluid around a little, and sniffed it She stuck a talon in her mouth, and spat it out again. She looked very puzzled. "Phantom?" 

Phantom took some on his paw, and sniffed. "It's a liquid, not very acidic, has a low iron content because it doesn't seem to bother us at all. Beyond that, I couldn't tell you." 

Christyne too seemed baffled. "Acetelyne Glycol is my best guess, but it just doesn't taste right. Acetelyne Glycol is sweet to the taste. I wouldn't drink it if I were a normal human or a normal gargoyle, because I think it might be hazardous." 

Tigris blinked. She knew that one. "Acetelyne Glycol? You mean anti-freeze?" 

"Some of the components are the same. This might be a more industrial coolant - for something a lot bigger, that produces a lot more heat than an ordinary engine." 

Tanya drifted over. "I could grab you your mass spectrometer from home, and be back in a minute!" she offered. 

Christyne shook her head. "Thanks Tanya, but that wouldn't do me much good. Sure, I'd know what's made of, but I can basically guess that. What I need to know is what it's used for, and it's chemical makeup won't tell me that." 

"It's a piece of the puzzle, I'll bet." Phantom put it, making the chemical disappear from his hands and into the wind with a tinkle of magic. 

Christyne gestured to Corala, who gathered the fluid into a ball again, and stuck it into a pouch on her belt, where it stayed a small marble with her magic. "Let's not let it get on the brush - it would kill the plants, I think." 

Tigris tested the air. She could smell something familiar. "Do you smell that? It's like natural gas." 

"Fuel refinery." Christyne said. "It's not gas, it's just stink. Salt Lake has a diesel refinery on the north point, and it sometimes blows the wrong way and makes some people sick." 

"It this a diesel plant?" 

"Who knows? Doesn't matter. I get the feeling from what Michael said that the refinery was just a cover. They could be refining ordinary gasoline." 

"Look over there." Erik pointed to the horizon. There was a small twinkle of lights in the night, there. "I'll bet that's where we're going." 

"If not, the truck will show us." Tanya deduced. "I don't like it - I'll bet it's in on this... project." 

"That's my feeling as well." Phantom confirmed. 

They had followed the truck for probably an hour before the truck reached the refinery. It was covered in lights, and seemed to be made up of towers and pipes. There was a boxy shaped building on one side that was several stories tall, and a guard shack by the gate. The truck didn't even stop at the gate, but was passed straight through. 

"That's odd." Tigris thought aloud. 

"Why?" Erik inquired. 

"A truck driver normally has to present his/her bills of lading - the load information, to the gatekeeper before being let inside, that's how they gain clearance." she explained. 

The facility was well lit, so the gargoyles found a ledge to watch from. The truck was driven down a tunnel made in the side of the one of the cliffs, there on the plant's grounds. A large door was shut over the cave's entrance behind it. 

"How weird! Who would drive a truck into a cave?" Tigris observed. "How would they turn it around and drive it out? Or breathe with the exhaust?" 

Christyne looked over at Tanya. "Can you get us inside? With that door closed, we don't have to worry about getting past the refinery security." 

"Let's get back from the clifftop, or they'll see the flames." Tanya suggested. They pulled back several hundred yards onto the mesa, and where Tanya snapped her fingers dramatically, and flames billowed up around them. The scenery changed to one of a cave with all kinds of pipes lining the side walls, dripping with condensation. The sounds of water dripping and of water running were everywhere. The cave was basically dark, and there were no signs of the truck. 

"Keep a low profile." Phantom insisted. "Let's go." 

Down on all fours, they began to dash along the roadway on the bottom of the cave, Keturah and Mandy, running behind them, Ket flapping her wings by her side slightly in the enclosed space as they went on, her wingtip feathers brushing the pipes. 

There was a large space opening up around them after about a half a mile. Ket and Mandy were starting to get tired. Here the truck had stopped. There were several large tanks along the walls, and the driver woman began to hook up a pump to her trailer tank. Some security man walked up to her, and talked to her. 

"Any problems?" 

"None." 

He nodded, and they exchanged some paperwork. "Thanks." said the driver, who turned back to her truck and crawled into the sleeper for a while. 

Tigris looked at them. "Deaf." was her magical command, though said in a small voice. "Let's get past them while they're distracted." 

"Wait!" Christyne said, and pointed one talon at the ceiling, where a small surveillance camera was pointed at the truck. It's monitoring light was on. "Let's take them out before they see us." 

Phantom looked at them, pointed a talon at them, but said nothing. The little red monitoring light went out. "That should take care of those - at least for a while." 

The clan quickly scurried past the truck, and into the bowels of the mountain. The passageway opened up into a large chamber. It was rectangular, and had a high roof, with a large door at one end. Christyne and the others ducked down behind some tool chests and tanks. Christyne turned to Phantom. "It's like an aircraft hangar." 

"It might have once had military use." he suggested. 

"Possibly." 

"Look at the floor!" Tigris said, referring to the center of the hangar. "What kind of airplane is THAT?" 

It was like nothing any of them had ever seen. It's wingspan was probably eighty feet across, but the craft itself was no more than twenty feet high. On it's wings were mounted large arrays in the shape of dish, only wish large open air spaces to let air flow between them. The dish continued below the wing, and on the end of each little prong of the dish was a device of some kind. A large boom extended out from the center of each dish, far out to the front some fifty feet, where another device had been mounted. There was a ten foot side window on the front of the craft for the pilot, slightly tinted to keep out direct sunlight. It was powered by what appeared to be two large jet engines. The whole thing couldn't have been more then two or three hundred feet long. 

"Man alive..." Christyne muttered. "Aircraft sure has come a long way in the last quarter of a century." 

"I'd wager my lunch that this is what we're after." Erik noted. 

"Sounds like a safe bet to me. Okay, stage one is completed - we found the weapon. What now?" Christyne asked. 

Phantom pulled up his sidearm. "Might I suggest the direct approach?" 

Christyne looked down at the hangar again. It was a few levels below them, and several people were milling about working on the craft. "I'm worried about fuel. If it's got a lot of fuel in it - or in this room, then Tigris will never have her baby, I can guarantee that - the heat alone from the blast would incinerate us." 

Phantom was pacified. "Then what do we do?" 

"Ow! Stop poking me!" Corala complained, looking at Tanya. Tanya, however, looked at her with a baffled expression. 

  
  


The two looked up. 

  
  


The blast sent the two young gargoyles rolling, and tools flying from the tool chest that had been hit. Alarm klaxons went off all over the place. The two youngsters immediately grabbed Tigris, and pulled her away, while Christyne and the others turned to find three security men holding some kind of weapon with the business end at them. After the first shot, Phantom quickly squeezed off another, and blew the man backwards, a gaping hole in his chest. Subtlety was not in Phantom's nature. Erik pointed his weapon and fired, missing. Christyne did what came naturally for her at close range, and jumped for the nearest one, claws extended. She managed to beat one man's head in. However, the third man proved to be a problem. Her took his weapon, grabbed Mandy by the shoulders, and pulled her back towards him, pointing the weapon at her head. 

"Back! Back!" shouted the man. There was a pause. Phantom had his weapon pointed at him, unmoving. Christyne was still snarling furiously. Keturah had her weapon out and leveled, as did Christyne's youngsters, who were hidden behind a wall, guarding Tigris. Tigris was singed, but okay - she had been as close as the young two, and they were all a little singed. But... Christyne thought, where was mother? 

"Don't do anything stupid." Phantom warned him. "I have an itchy trigger talon." 

"He does." Mandy panted, frightened. 

"Fine, all you have to do is go through her!" the human said. 

A roar was heard. There was a flash of red, and the human was on the humans were on the ground. Christyne pulled Mandy to safety as Tutela, having tackled the man like a sack of potatoes, picked up a wrench, and used it like a club to knock the senses out of him. 

They all rounded the corner, out of sight of the hangar. 

"Terrific, they know we're here." 

All present had their weapons raised. In the darkness was a scuffling sound, and they turned back towards the tunnel. 

Erik's eyes went wide. "Where's Tigris?!!!" 

"Tanya? Corala?" Christyne looked around. They were nowhere to be seen. 

"They were here just a second ago!" 

Keturah paused, looking at the floor. She picked up a small object. A half a hair clip. Christyne saw it. "Tanya's." 

Tutela was furious. "They've got them!" 

"Not until Tanya gets them out." Ket observed. 

"Perhaps, but to where?" Christyne pointed out. "We can't get past the refinery guards or that door without her!" 

"Then what do we do?" 

"Everybody scatter, try and find Tigris and the children. Go in pairs. Take these." She reached into her purse and pulled out three small necklaces. She handed one too Mandy, one to Tutela, and kept on herself. "These will allow us to communicate. Mandy, go with Erik, Tutela, go with Ket. Phantom, you're with me. Go!" 

The gargoyles shot apart. Erik and Mandy chased down the gangplank overlooking the hangar to the other side. Phantom and Christyne turned the corner chasing among storage bins and tanks of chemicals. Tutela gestured to Ket, and they chased back up the tunnel they had come through. 

  
  


  
  


Erik and Mandy were at a dead end. There was no place to go - but down. A ladder led directly down into the hangar. Erik took Mandy by the shoulders, tossed her like a rag doll onto his back, and slid down the ladder, by placing his paws and feet outside the railing and sliding. With Mandy still on his back, they went into another office, and locked a steel door behind them. 

Mandy had pulled the black wire necklace around her. "Hello hello?" 

Christyne's voice came back. "I hear you, Mandy." 

"We're in the lower hangar. There's some offices here. Betcha the cops would have a field day with these shady deals." she said, rifling through papers. 

"There's a lot of jet fuel here." Christyne said. "I can program one of the weapons to overload on countdown, hide it, and explode the tanks, which I'm sure would incinerate this place, but I need to find Tigris and the girls, and get us out of here in one piece." 

"Didn't you see that on a Star Trek episode?" Mandy asked. 

"Sure, lotsa times." Christyne said. "Don't knock Star Trek, Mandy - a lot of what they imagined became today's fact. Where do you think I got a lot of my ideas from?" 

Erik looked at Mandy, who turned to him. "Christyne says she can make a bomb and blow this place if we can get the kids and make it out of here intact." 

He nodded. "...And my mate, and our youngest child." 

"Exactly. The kids." Mandy laughed a little. 

Erik rolled his eyes. 

This office was basically empty except for a few tools. Mandy and Erik opened a door which led out into a hallway. Erik started looking in the rooms. "Bathroom. Another one." he reported. "A locker room." 

"Cleaning closet." Mandy reported. "Another locker room." 

There was a laser shot, and the sound of a door being forced open. "We're trapped!" Erik shouted. "Get behind me!" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Running as fast as her legs could carry her, Tutela strained to get down the tunnel after the kidnappers. A human security guard with a small laser pistol jumped into her way, but Tutela was too quick for him. She had no time to waste on him, and she immediately blew him away unmercifully. She had to find the children! Poor Ket was panting to keep up with her, as her mother probably had three times her endurance. 

When she reached the spot where the truck had been unloading, she looked around. There was room enough here for the truck to turn around, and there were vents in the ceiling to clear away the exhaust. The truck, however, was gone. Tutela cursed, and continued running up the corridor. 

Keturah found the security guard with part of his head disintegrated by the force of the weapon Tutela had used on him. Silently, she cursed - Tutela was really ticked to get this violent! She panted for a moment, staring at the body, and then followed up the corridor. 

Tutela reached the door first, she paused only a moment before she jammed her claws into it and tried to pry it apart. It refused to budge. She beat on it, but could not make a dent in it! What the hell kind of metal was in this door?!!! It was only making her paws bleed. Taking a few steps back, Tutela stepped up the power on her weapon to maximum, and opened fire. The metal turned rosy red, but remained solidly in place - totally impenetrable. Furious, Tutela threw the weapon down on the ground. 

Keturah came running up, and found Tutela curled up in a ball on the other side of the tunnel as her weapon, weeping, and the door glowing an angry red. 

Ket took charge, taking the black wire necklace from Tutela, and touched one of her feather's to it's transmit key. "Chrissy - Tutela and I chased down the tunnel, but the truck is gone, and the door is closed up tight. We can't break through it, even on maximum power." 

Christyne's reply was a curse. "We're trapped in here." 

"We lost the kids. I failed!" Tutela sobbed like a child. 

  
  


**Fifty Years Before**

**January, 1984**

  
  


It was a clear day on the mountain side - perfect for painting. She looked up at the sunset with growing anticipation. She was already making some summarizing lines on the canvas, sketching mountains and the skyline. The colors were beginning to take shape, and Terra Shelton began to apply colors. 

The sun was a beautiful bright white sphere against the purples and blues of the setting sun, and she captured all of the colors she possibly could. In a furious hour, she did as much work as she could, and then sat back in her chair, and rested. Her furiously swollen abdomen made it very difficult for her to stand and work for very long. Her time was close, she knew that. For a long time, she sat back and rested. She allowed one hand to rest on her expanded girth, and to feel it. For a moment, she thought she felt a bump - a small push of someone pushing back from the other side her placenta. 

Terra smiled. 

It was Michael who had chosen the name Matthew for the boy. At least, the ultrasound had said it's a boy, but after three successive ultrasounds with different reports, Terra wasn't so sure. First it was a boy, and Michael had nearly thrown a party, then the doctor was positive that there was no indication of that on the ultrasound and was therefore a female, and then the third time, the doctor concluded it HAD to be a boy. Terra wanted it to be another girl. Could she will her own baby to be a girl, she wondered? She hadn't cared last time, and Christine was born. Maybe that's all she should do now... or would that be trying to change things once again, although indirectly? 

She shook her head. She was confusing herself unnecessarily. She sighed, and allowed the cold winter breeze to stir her hair a little. She pulled her coat close to her, and wondered if she might nap a little before she decided to put her things away and call it a night. She fingered the amulet around her neck, rubbing it's metal with her fingers without even thinking about it. If there is a God, she pleaded, can't I please have a girl? 

  
  


Unseen to her, the jade stone set in the amulet began to glow. 

  
  


A mournful cry was heard in the distance. Terra looked up, towards the direction of the setting sun. There, backlit by the final fires of the dying light of dye, was a bat-like creature, flying in her direction. 

She tensed up a moment. What the in the good name of God -- ?!!! 

There was another cry, as the shape grew closer. It collapsed in a heap on the mountainside, with a grunt of pain. Terra gasped, and with a surge of adrenaline ran down the mountain path as quickly as her pregnant feet could carry her. 

She rushed up to it and found... the most mysterious looking young man she'd ever seen in her life, bloodied, and laying in a heap. His skin was blue with brightly white hair. He had batlike wings on his shoulders, one of which he was laying on, struggling to breathe. He had fetlocks instead of feet, a muscular tail, his hands and toes only had four digits on them, and he bore a large circle of little pointed horns all around his brow. She took his head in her hands. "What's wrong? Can I help?" 

"He'll... Kill me..." 

"Who?" 

"Sephlan." 

"Can I help?" she asked. "Let me get you out of here." 

He tried to say something, but she refused to listen. If he was being hunted, as he claimed, she needed to get him to safety. Without a thought for her own safety, she pulled the man up into her arms with the strength of a pregnant woman on a strong adrenaline rush. She took him to her small blue Chevy Malibu, and placed him on the passenger side. Without thinking of her painting or supplies, she put the car into gear, and drove down the mountain as quickly as the law allowed. 

The gargoyle, as he called himself, slept for a few hours in her care, and then awoke and began to talk coherently. He had a variety of stab wounds through the flesh in his wings. She caressed his wounds gently, willing them to heal. For a moment, she could almost seem to feel a tingling energy spread from the amulet, through her body, and into the hurt creature's wounds. She whispered it would be alright, and sang to him. He was beautiful in a strange sort of way. There was something... right about what she was doing, that she simply couldn't place. 

"It IS you." he said, looking coherently up at her. 

"Yeah, last time I looked into the mirror I was me. Why - do I look different?" she smiled. 

The gargoyle simply smiled. "I did not expect to survive this night." 

"Why are you fighting this, Sephlan?" 

"He means to destroy my clan - my family. I made a deal with him to fight me. If I lived through this night, he would leave us alone, and if I died he would have the clan to himself." he said. 

"You tried to sacrifice yourself for them?" 

"Yes - and now I've failed them. He'll return to the clan and claim I'm dead." 

"Have you called the police?" she asked, as if there were nothing unusual about the situation. 

He looked at her. "Look at me, and ask that again. Do I **look** like I could just stroll into a police station and ask for help? My kind are hated, feared, and hunted!" 

She just blinked. "Why not? Have you tried asking them?" 

He gave her the strangest look. "Are ye mad? If only other humans saw us that way." 

"Appearances mean nothing to me, it's what's in the heart that counts." she said. "You're a man defending his family. That's what I see." 

"If only there were more humans like you, then I might find some to help me defeat Sephlan." 

"We'll you've got **me. **Michael is working late tonight, but when he gets home, he'll help to. That is, IF he doesn't stop to buy birthday presents..." she said the last part mostly to herself. 

"When's your birthday?" he asked, smiling. 

"In a few weeks. I'm turning the big three-oh." 

"You don't look sixty." he smiled. 

"You mean thirty, right?" Terra asked, really confused. 

"Same thing." he sighed. "What's 60 years for me, is 30 years for you. We live quite a bit longer than you." 

"I see. You're saying then, in your own way, is that I don't look my age?" 

"Precisely! Although, you'd look a lot more beautiful with wings." he added. 

"Let's not jump too far, big boy. I have a daughter of six upstairs, too." 

"I meant nothing by it." he replied honestly. "For if I do not defeat that Fay Sephlan tonight, then I will truly be the last of my kind left in this world, and better off dead." 

"Don't talk like that." Terra tried to encourage him. "What do you need?" 

He shook his head. "I do not know. No weapon can kill an immortal Fay." 

"Immortal?!!!" she exclaimed dubiously. "Look, maybe you'd better tell me a little more about yourself and Sephlan." 

He did. He probably spent an hour doing it too! Terra listened closely to every detail. She was enraptured by his tale - a clan of refugees running from the world, and met with betrayal everywhere. It was pretty unbelievable... but then so was the monstrous thing that was telling the tale. Monster or no, Terra saw that he had a large heart, and in her mind that made him just like her. No one would ever change her mind of that. 

"An elf, a fairy...unicorns..." Terra breathed the words to herself, thinking aloud. "Those kinds of creatures are only vulnerable to..." 

"...to Iron." he completed her train of thought. 

Terra snapped her fingers. "I have an idea. You're going to think I'm crazy, but wait just a second, and I think you'll see what I mean..." 

Terra dashed up the stairs to young Christine's bedroom. She tried to do so quietly, but Christine turned over in bed and looked right at her mother. "Hi mom." 

"Hi dearest. Can I borrow something?" 

Christine shrugged. "Sure mom." 

Terra walked over to the little girl's dresser, and selected a small metal bell from among a cluster of things. It tinkled merrily as she moved with it. Terra sat on the bed next to her daughter and kissed her on the forehead. She stroked her hair for a few moments. "Sleep tight, sweetheart." she told her, as she moved to the door to leave. 

"I love you, mom." the little girl said as she turned over to go back to sleep. 

"I love you too, sweetheart." she replied, closing the door. To herself, she added. "I'd fight for you too." 

"A bell?" the gargoyle inquired. 

"It's made of iron, therefore wouldn't that make it's very sound poisonous to him?" she asked. "Christine's grandmother gave it to her. Since it's iron and not glass, she hasn't managed to break it yet." 

He smiled. "I like the idea, very creative!" 

Terra snickered. "I liked the sound of it!" 

Even the gargoyle couldn't resist a chuckle. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The hospital staff had been great, and Terra was SO glad to finally be leaving. Holding baby Matthew in her arms, Michael drove her home, showering her in kisses as they went along. Terra sighed contentedly to herself, "It was for moments like this, I was **MADE **to be a woman." She thought about the young boy in her arms. Oh well, she shrugged, I've already got ONE girl, it's only fair. Besides, who knows what the future might bring... 

Once she was in home, and resting peacefully in bed with the baby at her side, Michael came in. "Something came for you while you were away. It was just... left in the mailbox. No address or anything - just your name was on it." Curious, she let Michael use a screwdriver to open it. There, inside was Christine's little iron bell - and a note. 

  
  


_ Thank you for lending this to me, friend - your quick thinking saved my life - and my family. May yours grow without the difficulty and trials we've had. Remember to look at people for who they are inside, always. The world needs more people like you. We'll be nearby if you need us. Stay in touch._

_- A Friend_

  
  


Michael was impressed. "A bell?" he asked inquisitively. 

  
  


**Seven and a half years later.**

**May 27, 1991**

  
  


The cave appeared dark and deserted, but Terra knew it was not the truth. She pushed aside the brush, and stepped inside, flipping on her flashlight. 

"BOO!" said a friendly voice. 

Terra flipped his nose with her finger. "Hah, nice try!" 

There was a ring of ten or twelve creatures here, like her friend. Of course, none of them had names, but they all certainly looked very different from one another. There was even one member more to their number now than when she had first met them - an egg, which they said would hatch in a couple years or so. 

"Eggs are very reliable." he expounded. "Always ten years - and it's not uncommon for it to be to the very night a decade after it was laid. Clockwork!" 

"Well, Geez - that means my oldest would only been three years old!" she laughed. 

Her old friend gargoyle smiled. "How's your boy?" 

"Doing well! He doesn't have Chrissy's photographic memory, has some children getting along well with other kids in school, but he seems to have a better eye for fashion than I do!" Terra was struggling to laugh. "He asked me the other day why I didn't dress 'en vogue' with other women my age, and was making suggestions at ZCMI the day before last that I should wear. I may have a young male fashion consultant on my hands!" 

Terra was silent for a moment, and both looked at the ground uncomfortably. 

"I got your message." Terra finally said. 

"I'm sorry, I know this will hurt you." 

"Well, I can't be your mother." she tried to laugh, but it seemed to come out awkwardly. "No, if you need to go..." 

"We feel it's what we need to do. Perhaps it's simply restlessness. You are a good person, Terra Shelton." he held her hands in his paws. "Don't ever stop being who you are. Please, try to understand. You've watched over and protected our clan for seven years. Gargoyles are supposed to be the protectors, but in today's world... we are the prey." 

Terra sighed deeply. "Then I must change this world." 

"Someday, I believe you will." he said. "I hope I will live to see the world that you create, for it is a place I want to live in." 

Terra hugged her old friend tightly. 

The following morning, Terra gathered up her purse and keys. She put her Violin in it's case, and slung it over her shoulder. She turned to Michael. "I need to visit my parents today, and I need to be able to get back up the canyon and home afterwards. Mind if I take the red car today?" 

"Not at all." Michael said. "I'll see if I can find an eight barrel that runs better to put in the Chevy - one that doesn't have a cracked head, hopefully." 

Terra kissed him. "See you this evening!" 

"Momma!" Came little Christine's voice. "I found my undies in Matthew's room again!" 

Terra looked at Michael and sighed. "Matthew's not very good at sorting the laundry yet. Help him out a little, ok Chrissy?" 

She hung her head. "O-kay." 

Terra bent over and kissed her child on the brow. "See you tonight, I gotta go down to Salt Lake. Love you, Chrissy." 

Christine turned on her heel and ran back up to children's rooms. 

Terra's visit with her parents was fairly uneventful. They were being taken care of in a home in the Salt Lake valley, because Terra and Michael could not afford the time or the money to watch them and still house and raise their family. Besides, the Josephsons had made it clear that they refused to make themselves a burden on the Shelton's very limited funds. 

She thought about Matthew, as the red coupe worked it's way back up the wintery Interstate Eighty as rain began to fall - hopefully it would not fall any thicker! Matthew sure seemed to get into trouble a lot. He was always getting sent home from school from being in fights with other students. However, as Matthew told it, what the administrators called a fight, was more like a Matthew curling up into a ball and letting any number of boys punch him mercilessly. She knew the school officials did not like to play judge and jury, so it was considered as much Matthew's fault, and that made Terra angry. If Matthew was being tormented, then it was not his fault the school couldn't teach discipline and respect! The whole idea infuriated her. Why did they hate her son so much? Terra momentarily wondered if he would get along better in school if he had been born a girl like Terra had always wished? 

The sound of a horn blared behind her. They'd reached a downhill part of the rolling mountain. The truck pulled his air horn over and over again. He was sure coming up on her awfully fast! She signaled to get out of his lane, but there was another tractor in front of her signaling to get over as well. She looked behind her to left her, and changed lanes. The semi in front of her also moved over at the same time, and suddenly cut back on his brakes. Terra slammed her brakes, and winced as taillight filled her windshield. 

The car spun, and the world twirled dizzily in her view. The car was hydroplaning! Quickly she spun the wheel back around the way she was spinning, trying to regain control. She pumped the brakes. She heard the violin case lurch in the back seat. 

The car stopped - finally. Terra shook her head. Her eyes were filled with headlights. The sound of an air horn pierced her ears. Terra screamed. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


_Oblivion._

  
  


  
  


  
  


She was running, as fast as her feet could take her. Signal flares had been set up in the rain, and police were signaling all the cars past them. The traffic had slowed to a halt, and this side of the canyon was nearly impassible. She found the nearest police officer, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "WHERE IS SHE?!!!" 

"Excuse me miss! Who are you looking for?" 

"Terra! The driver of the auto." 

The officer pointed at an ambulance and a circle of police cars on the side of the road. "Someone jammed a penny into the trucker's air lines in just the right way so that they pressurized and released the brakes, but when he hit the brakes, and the air lines evacuated, the penny jammed itself over the piping, and the air in the trailer couldn't escape. He had lost his brakes and was out of control." The officers were saying to one another. 

"Small and easy to hide." 

"The brakes were sabotaged." 

"Automotive homicide." 

Homicide? 

The police woman in the red hair pushed through all of those around the red coupe, and found herself eye to eye with the bloodied form of Terra Shelton. 

"TERRA!" she shouted. "TALK TO ME!" she put her hands on Terra's face, willing her to live. She felt Terra's life slipping away. 

Her eyelids fluttered once, and affixed themselves upon her. "S... Sharm?" she asked in weak voice, before her eyelids rolled back into her head once more, her head slumped, quivered once, and was still. 

"**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**" 

  
  


**2034**

  
  


There were a lot of lights around them, a lot of plastic cupboards, and medical equipment. Tanya stirred slightly, looking around. It looked like the medical bay back their home in Salt Lake City. A man in a labcoat was drawing some kind of chemical into a needle. Tanya felt around for her weapon without moving too much and revealing she was awake. Her weapon was gone. That didn't matter much to her. She knew where there was one at home. 

The medical person left the room for a moment. Tanya willed the weapon to come to her, and in a second or two, it was in her paw. She hid it underneath her. The man came back into the room in a moment. 

She was on an examining table of some kind. There was also a table bearing Corala, and Tigris. Tigris's baby carrier was missing, she noticed. She looked around the room, and saw the small bananna-nut colored gargoyle baby, and the deep rose colored baby laying on a table next to where the medical person had been working. 

What were they doing? Were they prisoners or lab rats? Did she want to know the answer? She was about to jump up and grab the baby, when the medical person tested the needle for air pockets, and then turned towards the gargoyle child. 

Tanya's eyes immediately went red. "NO!" she shouted, and let go two shots from the weapon she had hidden underneath her. 

There was a thud as she had toasted two holes in a Doctor Medre. She didn't particularly care who he was - only that he probably worked for the enemy, and Tigris wanted to know what he was going - and may already have - pumped her baby cousin full of. For that matter - perhaps they'd shot up each of them with some kind of heavy tranquilizer. Corala had awoken at the noise, and ran over to Tanya, not saying a word, but looking down at the doctor Tanya had shot. 

"He was about to inject Daisy and Rose with something." Tanya explained. She handed the small device in her paw to her sister. It was a small black plastic thing with a metallic tip. It was a heat-based device, unlike the particle-beam weapons they had carried in here, and Christyne had made them very small. It was no more than five inches long, an inch wide, and half an inch tall. It tapered from the wide base where there was a single large button, to the metallic tip which had small jewel set in it. It was a laser that was aligned to fire exactly and precisely through the tip of the diamond. The diamond multiplied it's power a hundred fold, super heating the laser beam. It was the small sidearm that Christyne had mentioned before, that all the other adults carried after they turned 18 (by human standards). 

Corala went over to Tigris. She tried, but could not wake her. Corala search Tigris's belt and found a small pouch, and inside it she found Tigris's version of the same heat laser. 

"Oh yeah. I got the other one from home - under momma's pillow." Tanya blinked. "I forgot Tigris had one too. If they took our larger particle beam weapons, why didn't they take her small one?" she asked. The room only had one entrance, and so the two girls guarded it. 

Corala shrugged. "Too small. Too different a shape than what **humans** are used to. They like them with barrels, handles, and triggers." 

Tanya's eyebrow were worried. "I can't get Daisy and Rose to wake up either." 

"They must have already pumped them full of something. They'd already put Daisy and Rose to sleep..." 

"Then what is this other drug?" Tanya's eyes were wide with horror. 

"Mother... where are you...?" she asked herself. 

"Can't you get us out of here?" 

"Sure!" she said. "The problem is - what about mom? If they can't move that door and get past the refinery guards, then she and the others can't get out without my help! We can't abandon her!" 

Corala sighed. "Perfect." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"If you want to see your young friends or the pregnant one again, you will do exactly as I tell you." said a man in a hunter's suit, pointing a weapon at Erik. Mandy was crouched behind him, and there were several more suits behind the hunter pointing weapons at them. 

Erik and Mandy set their weapons on the floor, and they were led out of their blocked hallway. 

Like cattle, the six remaining warriors were gathered together, and chained. With Keturah this was difficult, as her wrists simply... didn't exist, sort of. The gave up on shackles and manacles, and used handcuffs - which adjusted better, and chained her feet together, and kept the weapons pointed towards her. 

They were each successively disarmed, shuffled into a cage, and locked tight. The cage was built into the wall, and lined with the same apparent material that had been used on the front door, as Tutela tried to break through it, and quickly discovered she could not. Phantom snarled, and raced forward, only to find himself jolted as soon as he touched the bars. The human who had made to original demands and threats regarding the 'children', looked at Christyne with great contempt. 

"Very interesting weapons. I shall enjoy taking them apart and learning how they work." 

Christyne had shifted into her Malcora mode, and her eyes were ablaze. "I shall enjoy taking apart your skull and learning how your brain functions." 

The humans looked at each other, laughing among themselves. "You have to reach me first." 

"I'm just biding my time to learn what you've done with my children before I start dismembering your body." Christyne replied. "I suggest you run very quickly, before I decide to eat a little snack first." 

The humans were laughing more. "That cage has enough energy in it to fry your gargoyle body to cinders. You are NOT invulnerable to our other weapons either." They hefted their laser weapons for effect. 

Mandy nearly laughed. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch!" 

Christyne smiled. "I like your thinking, Mandy." 

Christyne and Phantom shared a silent conversation with their eyes. 

"The bars, Phantom?" Christyne asked, bowing in a stately fashion. 

"With pleasure, my lady wife." he replied in the same mockingly regal tone. 

Phantom turned the bars, but did not touch them. A light wind rose in the room, and Phantom shifted... shimmered... becoming Arion. Christyne stepped forward, and took his hand, doing the same. Instead of two lead gargoyles facing the hunters, stood two fay, hanging in the air above the cage floor. 

"You forget." Christyne said to them. "Electricity is just energy in another form." 

Together Phantom and Christyne both stretched their arms out, near the bars. Without even touching the bars, electricity began to jump between them, growing in size, speed, and strength. Arion and Christyne began to glow brightly, their eyes shining like small mercury-vapor lamps. They were both laughing. 

All at once, the two motioned forward with their arms, and the bars on the cage exploded in all directions. Christyne, still hanging in the air, bearing her membership in the Third Race all around her, she lanced the same shocks of electricity from her fingertips, electrocuting the humans in the room. Several more came into the room, firing laser weapons, but the two elven creatures brushed them aside as if their laser bolts were not more than mere flashes of light, where they would impact harmlessly against the cavern walls. 

Phantom was paying direct attention to their leader, the one with all the flaunts and boasting. With one fist clenched, he created a straight beam of blazing electricity and drove it into the man's face like a sword. He screamed in terror, his hair on fire, and his skin beginning to roast. 

The two fay stopped their attack, and looked around. Several of the humans ran away in frightened terror. Their leader groaned. 

Christyne became her gargoyle self again, and picked up the man gruffly. "Pathetic little man! Still laughing now? What have you done with my children?!!!" 

He groaned pitifully, but refused to say. "You'll never find out, will you. You'll never know if they're alive or dead!" 

Arion and Christyne was infuriated, and began to blast him again with sheer energy. He howled again in under her torture. Tutela and the others followed them out of the cage, and hollered at the couple. "STOP IT! This accomplishes nothing!" 

They stopped, but were still angry. Christyne picked up one of her weapons from where the humans had dropped it. She pointed it at the head of the human she had been torturing a moment before. "Who's laughing now?" 

The human was not laughing, but seemed on the verge of tears. 

"You want a war, I'll give you a war. I don't know what these new inventions of yours are, but I intend to find out, with or without your help." she told him. 

The furious salmon-colored gargoyle, still holding the human in one paw, and her weapon in the other, she went down the corridor that the humans had used to lead them to this area. 

"I don't see why you didn't do that before." Mandy said to her. 

"I didn't think of it. Malcora kinda takes over at times. Blood of Fey or not, I'm still a gargoyle at heart." 

"Old habits die hard, eh? I'll remember that the next time you start transforming things for fun." 

"Even after having been a fay for almost a quarter century now. I still amaze myself with what I can do sometimes." she smiled, laughing at her former captor for effect. "You hunters will regret tangling with us ever again!" 

"You filthy, ugly beasts!" shouted the human in her grip. 

Christyne rolled her eyes and smacked him across the face with the back of her hand. "Keep quiet and do as I tell you and I might not eat you." 

It was about this time that Christyne led them to the craft they were building. Christyne nodded in satisfaction, and teasingly ran her talon's across it's surface. It was made of the same material as the door and the cage had been. Technicians, mechanics, and other civilians scattered in all directions as the gargoyles stuck together, guarding Christyne's back. She led them up the gangplank and on board the craft, and still holding her hostage with her, closed the hatch behind her. 

"We should be safe here for a while. Phantom, help me." she directed. 

Phantom took Christyne's hostage, and began to familiarize him with the business end of Phantom's sidearm. Christyne sat down at various computer consoles and began to punch up data. 

"Hah! I was right! They're construction is basically complete except for some minor details, and they've already conducted some pre-launch test flights." she read aloud. Mandy leaned over her shoulder, listening. "It's VTOL, and features those two large weapons arrays on the sides. They are based on particle-beam weaponry, relatively dated technology now, as far as I care. What interests me is this metal they've developed. It's pretty thin, light weight, and withstands a gargoyle's claws. It lined the cage and the door to the cave." 

"What's it made of?" Mandy inquired. 

"Almost pure carbon! These sons of bitches stole my idea! What - do they have keys to the patent office too? They used a serious almost pure linked carbon super-molecules. It's bullet proof, flexible, and a can be made into wiry strands, to make nets that they wanted to use to capture us that we couldn't break through. This would be a great way for me to make tubing for my anti-matter experiments..." 

"How does that help us find my love?" Erik interrupted her. 

"You're absolutely right. I'll have to save this for later. There's an abandoned medical facility in a town not too far from here, that where they took the children. They want to interrogate them!" Christyne shouted this last bit in shock. "Those sons of...!!!" 

"For what?" 

Christyne snarled to herself, eyes ablaze. "I don't care! Everyone strap yourself in. Time for a flight this ship will never forget! Phantom, I need you up here." 

Tutela took the human next, as Phantom went up to the front of the craft near Christyne. The interior was fairly small, and so the others were a little cramped on the inside. 

"I can't get through their access code to open the door." Phantom reported. 

"Who needs an access code?" Christyne sneered. With a blast of superheated gas, all the armed humans surrounding the craft waiting for them to emerge, were suddenly looking for cover, and cursing very colorfully. The craft hovered in the air, directly facing the large hangar door. It's weapons arrays came to life, as bolts of red light were emitted from the fingertips of the dishes towards the device on the end of the long boom, where the beams coalesced, and fired as one. 

Outside, the wall of a sand stone cliff and metal door crumbled to the ground and Christyne punched her way through it. "There's a taste of your own medicine." she smiled to herself. 

"I'm with Phantom - why wasn't it coated with that same impenetrable substance that they used on the door - and the side of the cage?" Ket asked. 

"Why? Think like one of them. The door was intended to hold us out, not keep us in. Once they'd captured us, lock us in their cage. Where does the hangar door come into this? We didn't even know where to look for it from the outside." Christyne explained. 

With a whine, the engines roared to life. Weapons fire was heard from outside, as the human attempted to shoot down the ship. 

"Go ahead and shoot, you ninnies. Look what you've created." she sneered. 

Their weapons ricocheted off the black material harmlessly. 

A beeping noise filled their ears. Tutela looked down at her captive. A small device on his wrist was beeping. Tutela motioned for him to go ahead and deal with the device. He pressed it. "Commander! Are you alright?" 

"Safe enough for the moment, though I'm going to need a serious haircut. And I'm not eating roast beef for quite some time, mind you." 

"Yessir. We've lost containment at the medlab, apparently the original stunning device was not nearly as effective as we had calculated!" the voice on the line reported. 

Christyne smiled coyly, but the gargoyles were silent. Tutela just motioned with her weapon for him to continue talking. He panicked for a moment, unsure as to what to say. 

"You mean we've lost complete control of the situation?" 

"I've already lost three of my men, and Dr. Medre." 

"Didn't you take their weapons?" 

"Of course, but somehow they have obtained two small super-heated laser devices. They don't look like anything from the medlab." 

"You fools! You didn't search them properly!" 

Tutela found the whole conversation mildly amusing, and just smiled. Phantom leaned over to Christyne. "Looks like they're using your stash from home." 

Christyne whispered back. "Why don't they find safe cover someplace?" 

"Worried about us." he answered. 

"Hang tight, sir." said the voice on the other end of the line. "We'll have you out of there soon enough." 

At this point Tutela flicked a switch on the comm device, and the conversation was abruptly ended. "I don't think so." so smiled. 

Christyne beamed. "Hey -- what can I say? They're JUST like they're mother!" 

  
  


  
  


Several suits were busily cleaning up the medlab after the departure of their former captives and the security people had gone running after them. Now the bodies were being attended to. The lab was a mess - bullet holes in the walls, tables overturned and used as shields, everything seemed to be in disarray. 

Just when the cleanup people felt they were getting a handle on the damage, a rumble began to fill the air. They heard the sound of a jet engine, and a loud sound of a laser letting go. 

However, Christyne had aimed her shot specifically so that it would miss the building, but shake everybody up a bit. "That ought to get everybody's attention." 

However, that was the second that her monitors lit up, and Tanya's face appeared. She had bruises on her face, and Corala was next to her, in a similar predicament. "Momma?" 

"Tanya! Where are you? Are you okay?" 

"She's fine." came the male human's voice they had heard earlier on their leader's comlink. "And if you want to see them again alive, you'll hand over the ship and Corporal Tanner, and come peacefully." 

Christyne tracked the transmission. She scowled. Phantom and she exchanged a serious look. "Fine, I'll play your game. First thing this evening." she lied, and Phantom closed the transmission. 

Tutela's captive laughed. "Hah! You're a fool! You'll never survive! You mangy dogs!" 

Phantom took Tutela's weapon and blasted three times in their captive's skull. "I'm sick of hearing his voice. If they want him, they can have him." 

  
  


In the center of the redrock desert, near Shiprock, New Mexico, rises a 1,500 foot edifice of nature's majestic beauty. The Tse Bida'hi is composed of numerous spires of stone clustered together into the shape of a mountain. After awaking from stone, Christyne looked at it, pensively. 

"How appropriate - Winged Rock. Legend says that a Navajo tribe was lifted to safety during a battle with an enemy tribe when the mountain 'grew wings' and caarried them to safety. Funny, Tse Bida'hi sounds exactly like one of us." 

"Yeah, especially the 'grew wings' part." Keturah laughed. 

The humans could see them coming, because they knew from which direction to expect the jet. It circled once, and from it's door each of the gargoyles leaped free. Confused, the humans held their captives tighter, waiting to see what was going to happen. Tanya hoped she wasn't stupid enough just to give the ship back to them. 

The gargoyles had all taken to the wing, plus Keturah, and one human carried by one of the male gargoyles. They each came screaming towards the mountain as the abandoned jet with the impenetrable skin veered, lurched, and plunged into the valley below, exploding a ball of flames. 

There was a scuffle, Tanya's captors were going to dispatch their captives. A burst of flames appeared, and one of the humans screamed. The scream alerted the gargoyles, who cried battle yells and dove in that direction. Tanya reappeared nearby, pulling herself free of the gag and chains that had been used on her. "MOTHER!" she shouted. "I'M WITH YOU!" 

Laser fire began on both sides. Christyne was not fool enough to play by their rules. Tanya led them straight towards a cleft in the mountainside between a cliff and a spire, where Corala and Tigris were still chained. The gargoyles glided in formation, like an arrowhead, straight in the direction Tanya indicated. 

The gargoyles attacked, dodging laser fire, and finally tackling the humans to the ground. Erik was immediate in dispatching the bonds on the gargoyle captives, who tore free the remaining impediments. Corala was met by Tutela, and the very pregnant Tigris was met by her mate, who embraced her. "Where are my babies?" she looked around. 

Christyne stood with one foot on top of one of the humans she had tackled. "You wanted your craft, you have it. You may have made it's skin impenetrable, but it's frame was not made of it, and it crumbled like tinfoil. Where is your leader?" 

"He was with you! You were supposed to return him!" 

"I did. He was in the craft." she snarled angrily. 

"You animals! You'll never get away with this! We will hunt down and destroy every last one of you!!!" he shouted. Rolling once, he managed to free himself from Christyne's pinning, and ran. Christyne chased him, weapon in hand, and clan in pursuit. 

All at once there was the sound of a baby crying. "**DAISY! ROSE!**" Tigris pleaded with desperation, but it was already too late. "**MY BABY!**" 

There the hunter stood, weapon in one hand, and in the other he cradled a bundle of cloth with two screaming gargoyle nurslings, who cried so loudly your ears hurt. "Stay back! I can at least have the satisfaction of knowing that two of your kind are dead!" 

"NEVER!" Christyne snarled, and took careful aim at the human's head. He rolled, and began to run. 

"**DAISY! ROSE! STOP! DAISY! NO! ROSE! PLEASE, DON'T HURT HER! PLEASE!**" Tigris begged pleaded hysterically, and tried to run after them, but Erik and Tutela held her arms back. She pulled and pulled against them, trying to reach her nurselings. 

"Murderer! How noble is your cause when you use innocent children?" Christyne shouted, following the human around a corner and into a dry gully between two spires. The human was trapped, and turned to face Christyne. He came rushing at her, pointing his weapon at her. Daisy wailed with an ear-spitting cry. In self defense Christyne tried to aim at him before he opened fire on her, and pulled the trigger. 

  
  


  
  


Tigris and the others watched with horror. Christyne's laser never reached it's target, but in a burst of fire and blood, little Daisy screamed one last time and died. Her little body exploded, and little shards of bluestone began to rain down on the ground. Rose fell to the ground, whole, intact, and still wailing, among the stone dust that had been her little sister moments before. 

The human made a dive to get past them, but was body-tackled by Mandy. Tutela was there right behind her, and together - with a few well-placed punches, his weapon was on the ground, and the two held him as a captive. Erik, eyes wide with disbelief and forming tears, let go of Tigris and fell to his knees. Tanya leapt forward and plucked poor Rose off the ground, checked her for anything broken, and tried to quiet her down. 

  
  


_** Tigris let out an inhuman wail, and collapsed into a sobbing heap, screaming unintelligible sounds over and over again.**_

  
  


"You will all perish! We will see to it every single one of your kind is wiped off the face of the earth!!!" shouted the human at his captor. 

Christyne roared with fury, her eyes crimson. "_DON'T YOU GET IT?!!! YOU ARE JUST LIKE HITLER AND THE NAZI'S FROM ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO! YOU MURDER AN ENTIRE RACE AND CALL IT 'ETHNIC CLEANSING'! YOU ROUND UP AND MERCILESSLY MURDER ANY PERSON YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO FRIGHTENED TO UNDERSTAND THEM! I AM YOUR NEMESIS! I PROTECT AND DEFEND THOSE WHO ARE DIFFERENT! THIS ROCK - THE TSE BIDA'HI WAS THE HOME OF NAVAJO INDIANS BEFORE IT BELONGED TO THE YANKEES, AND WHAT DID WE DO AS AMERICANS? WE DROVE MILLIONS OF INDIANS TO EXTINCTION, IN THE GREAT AMERICAN HOLOCAUST CALLED THE CHEROKEE TRAIL OF TEARS! YOU ARE BULLIES, AND **I** AM JUSTICE! I WILL NEVER ALLOW ANOTHER HOLOCAUST TO OCCUR, BE IT JEWS, INDIANS, PAGANS, MORMONS, GARGOYLES, OR ANY OTHER! YOU ARE DEATH, **I** AM LIFE! LIFE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH - IT WILL ALWAYS PREVAIL!_" She screamed. Her fay voice began to take over, and her words echoed for miles. She threw the human on the ground in anger, and kicked him once in the head to make sure he was out for the count, leaving little trickles of blood behind. Hoisting her weapon she turned to other humans who had come to try and rescue the comrade. 

"Who's next?" Phantom asked them. 

Erik, wide-eyed, settled his paws into the fine dust and the bluestone shards that stood out in start contrast against the redrock all around them. He leaned his head back towards the sky and screamed towards the newly rising moon. Christyne fell to her knees at his side, threw her wings wide, and joined his cry. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


_**Stone to Stone, Dust to Dust. From the Stone were we created, To the stone we must return.**_

  
  


  
  


  
  


**Several Weeks Later**

  
  


A dark cloud hung over the house in Salt Lake City, from which thing never really seemed to recover. Christyne kept herself locked away in her and Phantom's room, and Phantom was really the only one who ever saw her. Phantom said she cried a lot, but said little, only that she blamed herself - if only her aim had been a little better. If only she'd thought with her head instead of her instincts. 

Tigris cried a lot too, and became sick for a time with an illness no amount of stone sleep during the day could cure. Erik struggled to be strong and hold her up, but he was too sensitive to the pain himself, and often time would be seen taking long walks or glides with just him and his tears. 

The stone and dust remains of Erik and Tigris's fourth child were placed in a small child size gold casket, and brought home, and with Mandy's helped, a secret burial was arranged next to the bodies of the human Christine and Terra Shelton, and Terra's parents, the Josephsons. 

  
  


Daisy Avalon

December 13, 2023 

- April 24, 2034 

Daughter of Arion and Christine Phantom 

Murdered by hatred and racial prejudice. 

There seemed to be one other tragedy, and his name was Michael. Upon hearing the news, he too said very little to anyone. Finally, after a few weeks of this, Tutela seated herself near Michael. 

"Talk to me." she said. 

There was a long pause, while she waited. 

"Are we still married?" he asked. 

Tutela's expression remained unchanged. "I married for eternity, not 'until death do you part'." 

"Then perhaps you should arrange it before I die." Michael said. 

Tutela shook her head. "Why?" 

"I was the one who gave them the password to crack the computer system, allowing them to steal Christyne's C-60 research. It was many years ago, before I became sick and realized what I was doing." he confessed. "That's why I wanted you to stop what they had created with that knowledge." 

C-60 was an idea that Mandy had first suggested when Christyne had first become a gargoyle, noting that gargoyles bore talons that cut stone and steel alike. For such a material to be grown by a carbon-based lifeform, Mandy deduced, it must be some kind of organic material. Christyne would later perform extensive research on the compound that made up a gargoyle's talons. Using spectral analysis and mass spectronomy, Christyne learned that the major building block was an organic super-molecule or tightly interlocking carbon atoms in a formation that theoretic chemists had already dubbed "The Bucky Ball". It's closest relation was the diamond, which had a similar tightly interlocking structure of carbon atoms, but it was not a perfect crystal - C-60 was a perfect crystal. Because the atoms interlocked so tightly, in such perfect formation, anything made of the substance was bullet-proof and strong as diamonds. 

Christyne, however, did not see it's usefulness as a weapon. Crystals of C-60, when the atoms are linked together with Potassium Ions were perfect room-temperature superconductors, and Christyne was able to construct her massively powerful hand-held supercomputers. Computers were her fascination, and had moved on to using computers to construct spells from the ground up, and had even begun to move into the lofty realms of theorizing about the origins of matter and energy having a single common root, work done right up there with Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking. 

This, of course, made it easy to allow the Hunters to spend the intervening years designing C-60 as a weapon. Fortunately, to date, while Christyne had closeted herself inside her lab, she had already not only reproduced the C-60 plating the hunters had used, but had learned it's vulnerabilities. Her small heat based diamond-tip lasers, because their light was focused using the carbon atoms of the diamond at it's tip, made it the perfect tool for cutting the C-60 plating. 

Tutela considered the implications. "I'm sorry to say this Michael, but if that's the case, then the death of your granddaughter Daisy rests on your head, and you must apologize to Tigris, Erik, and Christyne, who blame themselves." 

One by one, with Michael on his deathbed, apologized to each of them, very genuinely, finally apologizing to the whole family together. Tigris's tears were not abated, but she forgave him - taking a dying man's last words as the truth. Michael finally passed on in August, and once again the gargoyles arranged for a nighttime funeral, where Michael was buried next to the body of Terra. 

  
  


Michael Joshua Shelton

September 30, 1952 

- August 3, 2034 

Devoted husband, Loving father 

May your soul find peace. 

  
  


**September 2, 2034**

  
  


At Christyne's insistence, Tigris and Erik were not to return to their home in Olympia, Washington until after Tigris delivered. The couple had graduated from college in the year 2026, and according to the Unicorn's word, they had become ordinary gargoyles from that day forward, not returning to their human illusions during the daylight hours. However, they still had the control to use those forms if they wished. The couple had made many friends during their years in school, and looked forward to seeing them again at their ten year reunion in 2036. 

Tigris, with a lot of loving support from her family and her lover and mate Erik, finally seemed to rise above her depression, finally able to put her loss behind her, and to place her emphasis back on her other three children. It had not been easy, but she'd finally moved on. Christyne felt especially bad for her sister, because her children were full-blooded children of the Third Race, and were - in the end - immortal. She felt her sister's mortality keenly, like a thorn in her heart, but she refused to put Tigris and her children through what she had been through to get where she was. Such was the curse of immortality. 

Tigris entered her final trimester, and lost a lot of her strength. Christyne and the others did their best to keep her fed, but it was in the hands of time now. 

"Will I loose this one?" Tigris inquired of her elder sister. 

Christyne lay down on the bed next to her sister, comforting her. While Tigris was on bed rest, Christyne spent time with her this way to keep her company, and to hold up her spirits. Their tails looped around one another, a sign of the sister's affections for one another. "What makes you ask that?" she inquired. "I don't see any problems. You lost a lot of strength last time. Besides, the bed rest has been good for you and you didn't deliver premature." 

"You once foresaw I had four eggs, remember?" 

"Yes." 

"Before Daisy was slain, I had four hatchlings, and one egg. When this is over, I'll have two eggs and three children. Could I been doomed to loose another of my children?" 

"I doubt it. I think the foreseeing was just to show me that you were a true woman, and had a future as a mother, so I doubt the numbers were too important. You create your own destiny, you know. When I see the future, I see only a possibility. Besides, Maybe I was only seeing the first four, not knowing that there were more to come." she explained. "I was simply trying to tell you that the first four were to be females." 

Tigris and Erik had laid Jasmine, Magnolia, Rose, and Daisy all within a short period of time between their marriage in 2020 and December of 2023. The couple had been so desperately happy together, wanting so much to have children, that they hardly waited for Tigris to menstruate a couple times began they started over. However, after Daisy had been laid, they slowed down, taking Christyne's example of once every few years. 

"I've finally seen them, do you want to know what colors they are?" 

"Yes! More girls?" 

"More girls. If it weren't for Indiana, I'd think our family was cursed or something." 

"I worry about that poor little boy yours, Chrissy." Tigris admitted. "Maybe he'll turn out like me." 

"Oh, I hope not. I'll encourage him to learn sensitivity, but I will NOT encourage him towards anything he isn't. I really don't know if he is or not, I haven't seen that." 

"However, if he is, promise me you'll at least teach him that it's okay if he needs to, when he's old enough to make that decision." Tigris requested. 

Christyne nodded. "Of course. I'm more worried about the reverse, though - one of our girls becoming a lesbian, or needing to become a boy." 

"I doubt it. Being truly gay is rare, and transsexual even more so - one in 300,000 gargoyles." she smiled. "I think I've outdone the numbers for our families." 

Christyne laughed a little at this remark. She put her hands over Tigris's eyes. "Let's hope so. Can you see them now?" Christyne closed her eyes and cast a little spell. 

"Yes." 

"This is the one in the rookery now." 

"Marigold. Marigold would be a good name for her." Tigris thought aloud. 

When Christyne and Phantom had named their children for the oceans of the world, Erik and Phantom started a tradition. After their first child hatched, her light blue coloring reminded Tigris of a Jasmine flower, and that was where little Jasmine got her name. Each of their children seemed to follow a pattern of pastel colors like their mother, so the tradition stuck. 

"Don't decide right away - you've got time yet before she hatches." Christyne cautioned. "And this is the girl you carry now." 

Tigris sighed. "I'll need to think about her name." 

"I've seen that color before." Christyne noted. "The flower was called Portula." 

"Portula." Tigris tested the name on her lips. "Interesting." 

Christyne lifted her fingers. From her sister's eyes. "So... can I get you anything?" 

Tigris looked at her with pleading eyes. "Do you know how much I **MISS** a cheeseburger?" 

Christyne laughed. "Now THAT I can do, if you promise to eat it." 

"Promise." 

Christyne shifted, and became her college-student self, shocked in the most atrocious fluorescent pink hair. "Back in a flash." 

Tigris lay back, looking up at the ceiling, her paw once again exploring her girth. There were no bumps, no kicks, no movement she could feel. While disconcerting, it was a good thing - it meant that the shell was forming around her baby to protect it until it hatched in another ten years. Rose began to squall and wail from her crib, so Tigris found herself having to roll over and fish her out - thank goodness Mrs. Loco Scientifico had made that crib only waist-high, Tigris smiled to herself. Rose did her job, and immediately set about feeding herself. Rose was almost weaned, but since Tigris's body didn't seem to know Daisy was gone, and so her breasts were in pain a lot of the time. Tigris welcomed a little relief now and then from Rose, even if Rose was starting to prefer the bottle. 

She turned over the image of her child, as Christyne had shown her, in her mind's eye several times. The foreseeing saw a child of eight who bore the star on her brow that her mother did - marking her ascension to that of Unicorn. Now that she thought about it, Tigris was glad she was having girls, because what would she do with a boy? 

They had decided that when the children turned the age of decision, eight years old, they would be introduced to their Unicorn heritage, which is when they would take the form for the first time, and learn from Tigris's mentor - the Night Angel of Olympia. From that time forward, they would bear their mother's mark - a silver star on their brow that marked the place of their horn. 

How would she handle a boy, if she had one? He would feel left out, that was for sure. He would never bear that mark - only a female could be a Unicorn, that was just the way things worked, and as much as Tigris hated that, there was nothing Tigris or anyone else could do to change that. Tigris remembered how she had felt as a young man, Matthew, watching other girls getting pampered by boys, or by their parents, just for the sake of their womanhood. It was a jealousy that had eaten young Matthew alive. She did not wish to cast her boy into that same curse. 

Tigris groaned, and clutched her middle, wondering how much longer it would be. Was it her imagination, or was it hot in here? 

Christyne reappeared with a "Burger King" bag under her arm, and she shifted back to her normal gargoyles self with the flashy pink hair. "Sorry about that, there was another one of those 'Jesus Jumpers' at the BK - holding up everything - proclaiming that Jesus was STILL coming and everything... You okay? You don't look too hot." 

Tigris gave her that LOOK. "I'm pregnant, Christyne." 

She laughed. "Yes... VERY VERY pregnant, I'd say." 

Tigris sighed, and changed sides with Rose. "How much longer must I endure this agony?" 

"Until you're delivered, and that's final. Hey, you're the one that wanted breasts so badly, now look at you. It's like SARK says - 'Breasts are like pets - they're nice to have sometimes, but you're the one who has to take care of them.'" 

Tigris had asked Chrissy once before if she should take something to stem the flood of milk her body was producing, but Chrissy had outright refused to give her anything of the sort until after her egg was lain. 

"Very deep. There's a section for that in... UNGH!!!" Tigris grunted, she squeezed her eyes shut, and then moaned. 

Christyne looked at her. "You okay?" 

"Fine... Chrissy... Fine... My water just broke." 

Christyne shifted to elven form, and touched a small button on her desk keypad. "Mother? Would you join me in the infirmary? Phantom dear? Could you take the Erik and the kids for a glide or something?" 

Christyne took the blankets Tigris was laying on, and in them carried Tigris down the hall to another chamber, and flicked the lights on. Mandy and Tutela came in. "What's the matter, Tigris?" 

Tigris groaned again, breathing laboredly. "It's called a contraction, dipshi**!" 

Mandy whistled. She never heard Tigris openly curse except for one time - whenever she was in labor. "How can we help?" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Erik didn't listen to Christyne's instructions. He knew better. He and Tigris had done this a few time before, and he knew when to put his foot down. While Phantom and Ket watched the others, Erik went to the infirmary to hold his mate's hand. 

Tigris was already laid out with her legs in the air, and when Erik insisted on being there for Tigris, Christyne laid out a sheet for his sake, but he turned to face his lover's eyes, and concentrate on her. 

"Will the fetus be alright?" he asked. 

Christyne was determined. "If I have anything to do with it. I can invent great weapons, but I need to make up somehow for my lack of ability to aim." 

Erik and Tutela exchanged a look - she was taking this all very personally. 

"Calmly, dear. This has nothing to do with you." Tutela encouraged her. "We've all done this before." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Don't you ever get tired of being down here watching the eggs?" Keturah inquired. 

Xylanamalthiatibia shrugged. "I am an immortal. I enjoy the task that Arion has asked of me, and I do it with joy. Arion is not fool - he asked me to guard the youth of his family - and a family is eternal if it's children are protected. I for one never had family until Arion. It is a very wonderful feeling." she smiled in a kind, motherly way, as Christyne and Erik found a soft place among the ferns and other greenery of the rookery to lay the egg. It was a pristine milky white. It's natural camouflage would develop within the first couple of weeks. 

Satisfied it would not shift about, Christyne stood and considered the egg. "I'll bet you I could design a plexiglass shell that uses C-60, and make it a mesh that we can use as an added layer of protection for the eggs, that would still allow to eggs to breathe as needed." she said, looking at Xylanamalthiatibia. 

"Why?" 

"I'm a gargoyle - I worry if they'll be protected. After all, before too much longer they expect a major quake in this area, and I don't want to risk the rookery." 

Xylanamalthiatibia smiled. "I will not let anything happen, but if it helps alleviate your worries, you can count on my help." 

She petted the dragon's ears. "Thanks Xylana." 

Erik turned to another part of the rookery, where hidden among the fronds was another egg, it's camouflage long since in place. With a tender smile, Erik turned the egg, stopped to rub it's surface for several moments. 

The children were allowed to come in and look. Tigris wanted the rookery to be a sacred and special place, not an embarrassment to them. However, right now Tigris slept like she were stone in the upper chambers. Tutela helped some of the children up to the basins were the plant life grew that filled the rookery and exchanged air with the eggs. It was not necessary of course, to have the plant life, but the little ecosystem that Christyne had produced just seemed like the right thing for their clan's rookery. Better than a cold basement or a storage closet. Besides, all the eggs that had come to term in their rookery thus far had all hatched, and none had died - it was a good record so far, and one that Christyne wanted to keep. 

Demeter, Lysander, and a few others came to visit from the Miniclan to see Tigris and her new egg. When they learned about the death of little Daisy, they chose to stay a while and spend time with their friend. They seemed to know when they needed one another. 

Tutela couldn't help but smile. Two deaths had darkened things in their two clans, but the laying of another egg was something so bright and happy that it seemed to blow all the dark clouds away. Christyne had been right - though you can never have on without the other, life was ever so much more powerful than death. 


	11. Deception

Writing begun on: February 13, 2000   
Writing completed on: February 23, 2000   
This version is current as of: February 29, 2000

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios. 

** HISTORIANS NOTE:** This fanfic will be my first in the Phantom Saga to include Elisa, Goliath, and the Manhattan clan. It being fifty years in the future, I needed some reference as to where to take that clan so many years in the future, so I used The Gargoyles Saga (http://tgs.gargoyles-fans.org) as a reference. I may have my qualms about TGS, but it's the best new material there is since the end of the second season. After all, Pegasus and I had a hand in writing it's pilot episode, Fallout - parts one and two. However, I don't agree with everything, so you'll find a thing or two of my own sprinkled in for good measure. (A little bippity, a little boppity, and a lot of boo!) 

The X-men are owned by Marvel Comics. 

This fanfic contains some mild to moderate sexual content, with suggestions of a lot more. There is no foul language. I recommend a PG rating. 

1. This figure is accurate today with young women and cosmetic surgery.

**Downtown Manhattan   
January 2049**

  
  


The Eyrie building stood proud as the tallest building in the world, and it was the last place in the city in which the lights of day lingered and faded away. 

With a tremendous roar, the gargoyles awoke. 

Atop the tallest spire of the tallest tower, Goliath, well into his sixties now, and Elisa at his side, stretched their wings, and embraced - happy to see another evening together. With a bound, both leapt from the top parapet down to where the others were brushing away the last of the bits of dust and stone debris. Broadway and Angela fell into each other's arms almost immediately, as Broadway gently rubbed her expanded girth, as Broadway gently hoisted their thirteen year old youngster up onto his shoulders. Opposite them stood Brooklyn in his armor, holding his mate Sata in her Kimono, both in their late fifties, and behind them were their two children, now grown into adults, and their adult gar-dog Nudnik. Lexington and his mate stood in the rear. 

Smiling at each other, they all breathed a sigh of relief once more that they had awoken with everyone accounted for. Luckily times were not as bad as they had once been. Each of the gargoyles settled into the courtyard, gathering around the golden statue of Hudson, where a tall young man in a trench coat stood waiting for them. 

"Good evening everyone." he smiled with dry humor. "Sleep well?" 

"Just fine, Alexander. Is anything... wrong?" Goliath inquired. 

"No, just wanted to take a moment to say hello, and pass on a message from Owen - there's some people waiting downstairs that you... might want to meet." 

Goliath and his mate looked at each other. Elisa shrugged, and smiled. "Very well." 

  
  


The room was decorated with shields, weapons, tapestries, and lots of little plaques explaining each of them. They were two women, an older looking woman in her sixties, and a younger girl of late twenties, The older woman was fairly plain featured, though formally dressed in a dark blue suit and white blouse. The younger woman was a little strange, however, whose hair was fluorescent pink. As Goliath and Elisa approached them, Elisa noted that the young woman's eyes were the same color. 

Alexander approached them first, as Owen made the introductions. 

"Mr. Xanatos, this is Terra Shelton, who will be speaking at the consortium next week, and her daughter Christine - owner of Xanatos Techsystems of Salt Lake City." Owen gestured first to the older, then to the younger human with the odd hair. "Ladies, this is Goliath." 

Goliath reached out his paw to her, and Terra took it - by his midarm, in the gargoyle way. "Pleased to meet you at last." 

Christine also shook his paw, and then turned to the orange/almond female at his side. "You must be Detective Maza." 

Elisa seemed dubious of the strangers. She offered her paw reluctantly. "Second class, NYPD." 

"Ah yes, I've been hoping to hear from the mysterious Christine of Utah, who keeps coming up with the most fascinating R&D projects." Alexander shook her hand. "But, I know you didn't come to see me." he and Owen turned and left. 

Once they had gone, Terra and Christine looked at each other. Christine reached up in the air and snapped her fingers, and in a flash, where two human women had stood, two new gargoyles had taken their places. Elisa took an involuntary step backwards. They each nodded to Goliath. The younger of these two new gargoyles wore tight midnight blue spandex pants cut off at her knees, a baremidriff top decorated with shield of the Salt Lake City Police - the rank of a detective, and a baseball cap with the same police shield on it, with a ponytail of her long curly brown hair drawn out the back. The older one was in breeches like Goliath. 

"Tutela of clan Drake, of the Isle of Man, and this is my daughter Malcora." the older red one smiled. 

The younger one picked up on the cue. "Detective, SLPD." she produced her badge, and winked at Elisa. "Sorry about the deception." Christyne explained. "It's still hard to get a booking on an airline when you have wings of your own." 

"Hopefully that is one of the changes we will make in the world." Tutela nodded to Goliath. 

Christyne smiled. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you." she said turning to the startled police detective. 

"Are there... many other clans in the US?" 

"We've no idea, but there are some - Los Angeles, Washington state, Arizona, Montana, and some that have never told me their locations." 

"Arizona? Any idea where?" Elisa's attention perked. 

"Ever hear of a 'Hot Water Ranch'?" 

"What have you come here for?" Goliath asked Tutela. 

"We're here to inquire of you and Mr. Xanatos for a safe place to stay in Manhattan until the conference. Obviously, we cannot simply find a rooftop. Mr. Xanatos has already given his okay, but said that the castle was, at least in part, yours, and that yours was the final word. We want to get to know this clan, and if possible become your friends and allies." 

Goliath smiled. "Agreed, you may stay here. We will discuss the rest... after the conference, when we know each other better." 

"That's fair." Tutela shook mid-arm with Goliath. 

"Will you join us for patrol tonight?" 

Christyne smiled. "We'd love to!" 

  
  


  
  


"So... four hundred years ago, your clan was destroyed by humans just as Goliath's clan was a thousand years ago." Elisa nodded. 

"Yes, but I only survived because I had been cast into a similar eternal sleep a long time before. People knew I was already dead, but they damaged my body anyway. It was only through the intervention of the children of Oberon that me and my mother survived, and they placed us into the lives of humans - to help us learn to forgive, I suppose. I know I would not have forgiven them otherwise." Christyne sighed, reminiscing. She was no longer in her formal blues and had untied her hair, but Elisa knew that there was still a quick-draw holster under her arm - she recognized the bulge. She was dressed in the sort of thing Elisa normally wore since her change - tight fitting for gliding, but comfortable. She wore women's denim cut off at the knees, another bare midriff, but in a muted blue that matched her eyes, with the initials "CS" on one shoulder. 

"So that you wouldn't wind up like Demona - the Weird Sisters learned from their mistake, I guess. Did you become a gargoyle then, willingly?" 

"No - but I didn't remember my old life in the seventeenth century at that time. That came later, after I had been forced to accept the Fair Folk would not return me to my human form. I don't envy the choice you had to make, though." 

Elisa shrugged it off. "Were you a cop before you were changed?" 

"No, I was in college. I got my badge last year. I'd been doing my best to clean up crime and things in the city, but the town threw a fit. There were anti-gargoyles riots there, just like Manhattan around the turn of the century. I talked the police under my human guise, and we struck a deal. They agreed to let me continue to protect my city, as long as I obeyed the law and did so like a cop. I also had to licence the weapons I use, but the paper work eventually went through. It was a very secret project, kept from the city for a while, and me and my husband went through the program. They ranked us as detectives. Once things cooled down more, and some of the work we did got noticed by the press, they let it leak to KSL - the big news affiliate in the valley - that the gargoyles in the valley worked for the SLPD, and the governor actually made a statement that if the public should encounter gargoyles, that they should present their badge in any action we take." 

"Did it work?" 

"Yes, I think it was GREAT idea! Anytime the public encountered us, we showed our badges, and the public knew we were on their side. The riots stopped and the anti-gargoyle sentiment lost all it's energy. My oldest wants to go through the program too - that way she can have a badge of her own! Besides, a few years ago, there was an... incident. I was inadvertently responsible for vaporizing one of my sister's children in a hostage situation. I vowed from that day forth I was going to do things the right way and no more vigilante justice." 

Elisa smiled, impressed. She went back to the topic of the children of Oberon. "I get why Oberon paid almost no attention to our situation with Maddox just after the turn of the century. He was too busy with you and Sephlan." 

"Maddox?" 

"King of the Unseelie and his Queen Maeve were on a rampage throughout Manhattan until we put a stop to their madness once and for all. I remember you saying you'd battled the Unseelie before." 

"Now THAT must have been an adventure!" Christyne exclaimed with excitement. "No, we were dealing with a unseelie sympathizers in the seelie court, and Oberon REALLY hated traitors among his own. It took a bombing in his castle - in my chamber - to convince him." 

"Do they consider you part of the Avalon clan, then?" 

Christyne smiled. "Aye, that they do, milass!" she imitated their Scottish baroque. 

Elisa laughed. "So... why the pink hair? And eyes too? I noticed you always have them, no matter which form you appear to be." 

Chistyne stammered. "Well... uh... that's one adventure... that I'd rather not discuss. Would you talk about clan issues with just anyone? Like your brother, Detective Derek Maza?" 

Elisa's eyebrows narrowed. 

The two said nothing for a time, gliding on generally strong but peaceful night breezes. The sounds of shouting came to their ears. "Look!" Christyne exclaimed. 

The two gargoyle females came to perch atop a bank complex. Down on the street were a group of protesters, who were getting fairly loud. They were being held back by a gate from a large series of nice looking buildings on the other side. 

"The United Nations Complex." Elisa reported. 

"Uh oh. This is way not good." the other sighed. 

Down below, Christyne and her native New Yorker companion listened to the voices which came drifting up to them. 

"Destroy the gargoyles! Destroy the gargoyles! Destroy the gargoyles! Destroy the gargoyles!" 

Elisa slipped her radio into her ear. "Elisa to other teams, come in." 

_ ~"Sure Elisa, this is Brooklyn and Sata, what's wrong?"_

"We've got an angry mob trying to storm the U.N. grounds." 

_ ~"Oh perfect. What's their beef?"_

"Us." 

_ ~"T-riffic. I'll radio the others. You'd think they'd get tired of this after fifty years of this."_

"It took them longer than that to get used to the idea of women's rights, blacks, and gay rights." Elisa remarked snidely. "Get Matt down here, if you can reach him on his cell. He might also be pulling the night shift tonight, so try his office." 

"Utah is still struggling to pass a gay rights initiative." asked the Utah native. "Any ideas? We go down there, we're gonna throw gasoline on the fire - you know that." 

"Only Matt and the police can make a difference here." she sighed. "Maybe it is time for me to retire." 

Two frustrated gargoyles watched in silence. 

  
  


**Washington State**

**About a month later**

  
  


Student shifted in their chairs, many sleepily, some just bored, but most only paying partial attention. The bell rang to begin the class, and the teacher, a good looking but slightly portly woman in her early thirties, sat her notebook down on her table in the front of the room. 

"Morning, kids!" she smiled. 

The pitiful excuse for a "Hello, Mrs. Xanatos." which they whimpered, made Sandra's patience edge slightly. 

She sighed, and looked at them. "Have we had about enough of this play?" 

The students, a little surprised by the question, all nodded, except one. 

Her daughter, Jasmine, spoke up. "I dunno, I thought it kind of interesting." 

The teacher smiled. "That's only because you know the real story." 

"Real story?" came the other members of the class. 

"You're only in third grade, kids - so I expect you'll be getting a litany of Shakespeare continually every year, every English class you take. It's part of life, you might as well get used to it. Romeo and Juliet is fairly easy to understand, A Midsummer Night's Dream is a lot of fun, but Macbeth is one of those staples you can never quite get away from. Like milk and bread." 

"Death and politics." Jasmine uttered with sarcasm. 

"Tell us!" the class pushed their teacher. 

She smiled. "Oh well. We've finished the test, and today was our last day on your Macbeth unit - now, let's talk about what really happened." 

One student was confused. "You mean... there really was a Macbeth?" 

"There most certainly was a Macbeth, king of Scotland, and a Duncan. BUT! Shakespeare was an Englishman who was - eventually - working for the king, and England and Scotland were enemies. Is it any wonder then, that we learn that King Duncan gave a lot of things to England to 'get in good' with them? What Jasmine is talking about is the Scot's version of the Scottish Play. Was Duncan such a good and righteous king? Not in the least." 

She began to draw on the board, listing the names of various Scottish nobles, explaining as she went. "Take notes on this. Macbeth's father was a well-loved man named Findlay. Meantime, Duncan had no support to get to the throne. Both were in line for it, and normally Duncan would have gotten the throne anyway, except that the people liked Findlay much better, and didn't trust Duncan. So Duncan, hungry for the throne, paid an assassin, one of his own men named Gilcomgain, to murder Findlay and Macbeth. Gilcomgain succeeded in killing Findlay, but not Macbeth. Without his father, however, Macbeth could not gain enough support to become king. Not that he wanted to become King, however - he had something else on his mind." 

Her daughter, Jasmine, smiled. 

"Macbeth was in love with a girl named Gruoch, and they say she was very pretty. Many men wanted her, but she was in love with Macbeth. However, when Macbeth did not ascend to the throne, Duncan ordered Gruoch be married to Gilcomgain." 

Sandra Xanatos noted her entire class seemed riveted to her recitation of history, especially the nine year old girls. A young man of about Sandra's age, another teacher, quietly slipped in the door at the back of the classroom, listening to her story. 

"Then, something happened. Macbeth learned that Gilcomgain was the assassin who killed his father, and slew him in combat for his father's murder. Macbeth married Gruoch, and they had a son - Luoch. Duncan had a son as well, Canmore. Duncan began to fear Macbeth, and secretly began to slay Macbeth's supporters while they slept - NOT the other way around. Duncan waged an all out war against Macbeth's supporters. He slew King Duncan in fair combat on the field of battle, not while he slept. 

"Unlike Duncan, who's short reign was filled with hostility towards the crown, 

Macbeth reigned in peace and prosperity for forty years, when he was betrayed by his chief advisor, his castle destroyed, and was himself murdered by Duncan's son, Canmore. However, Macbeth's son, Luoch, took up his father's crown, beat back Canmore's English forces, and reigned in peace in Scotland for many years." 

There was a single applauder in the back of the classroom. The class took up the clapping after a moment. Sandra looked at the man standing back there - another of the English teachers. 

"Can I help you, Mr...?" 

"Jordan, Geoffrey Jordan actually. I teach in the fifth grade. I was walking through, when I heard your retelling, and it intrigued me. How much research did it take for you to compile all that?" 

"I attended a few lectures at Columbia, thanks to some friends of mine - most of the rest if family history. My husband is full blooded Scottish." 

"Oh really?" he asked. "Family history? What kind of family..." 

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she cut him off. "I've only got about ten more minutes to pass out and resolve test results on this unit before recess." 

"Recess!" the children whooped and hollered. 

Mr. Jordan smiled, and walked casually away. Sandra placed him completely out of her mind. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The house was a modest looking one - nothing out of the ordinary in these neighborhoods. It was a little larger than most, almost a flattened cube shape with an inclined roof and gables on the front, as well as a large, sturdy balcony in the back. There was a trampoline buried in the backyard, and a separate garage/workshop where Eric Xanatos kept us his little family. 

A minivan pulled into the driveway early in the afternoon, and the children all piled out. She scurried them inside to do their homework, yawning. 

"Tired, my love?" Eric inquired, taking Sandra in his arms. 

"Aye, I think I'll grab a few hours before we leave tonight." 

"I'll have supper ready." 

Eric wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, and drew Sandra up to a long kiss. She lifted her left foot off the floor. 

Sandra, still glowing from the kiss, counted herself lucky. Eric was an accountant, who did most of his work from the computer at home. He also wrote a few books about the Medieval Christian Church which sold modestly. After not having been pregnant in fifteen years, she had decided that it was time she did something else with her time, and became a teacher at the local grade school her children attended by day. Eric would tend for their needs at home, run errands, go grocery shopping, and still earn a living large enough for his family to live on comfortably. 

However, by night, no one except for a select and trusted few, knew what their family did by night. 

Sandra reawoke around eight, the children all exclaiming that they were rested too, and wanted dinner. Eric already had it on the table. Fajitas ala-carte with a healthy balance of cheese-on-asparagus for nutrition. Usually Sandra and her mate traded off cooking nights, as both were now eager chefs. Some of the children were showing the same desires, and occasionally, they would get their own chance to do a dinner night all for themselves. After making sure each of the children and adults were given their own fair helping of vegetables. No one touched their food yet, though - they knew better. 

All at once, the parents and their five children, raging in age from nine to two, each stood and held hands around the table. Their father, Eric, closed his eyes, and said something to the ceiling in Latin, before they all took their seats again and began to eat in earnest. 

As the meal drew to a close, a sense of urgency grew. "Time's almost up, Portula, you have to eat as least one." Sandra encouraged her youngest. 

The stubborn young child folded her arms and pouted. "I don' wanna!" 

"Do you want a treat tonight?" 

"Yes." 

"Then I suggest cutting it up into little bits, and mixing a lot of cheese into it. You've only got fifteen minutes left." 

The youngster took the small glass dish the vegetable had been served from, and began to use it's serving utensil to shovel as much of the remaining cheese sauce as possible onto her long stalk of asparagus. 

It wasn't very much later that the family gathered in the living room, held hands, and waited. They were watching a computer on the wall make a countdown in seconds. Finally it reached zero, and the family looked at each other, waiting. In a subtle, silent wave, from one end of the room to the other, the family each rippled, the old appearances fading away, to reveal Tigris Euphrates, Erik of Avalon, and their five gargoyle children. 

"Who's teaming tonight?" asked Magnolia. 

"Your mother and I are gliding together tonight." said Erik, taking Tigris's paws into his. "Kids - you'll signal us if there's trouble?" 

"Daddy! We always do! Promise!" 

Tigris held her mate's shoulders. "They've never let us down before. It's my job to worry, not yours." 

Erik smiled, and kissed the silver star on her brow. Jasmine, Rose, and Magnolia had similar stars on their brows as well, although little five year old Marigold and two year old Petula did not. They had not passed their eighth birthdays as Jasmine, Rose, and Magnolia had. 

The family climbed the stairs in the hall to the deck out back, climbed the railing, and dove off into the night in pairs: the parents, and the two 'M's, Magnolia and Marigold, except for Jasmine, Rose, and Portula, which flew as a threesome. 

Magnolia and Marigold we talking about school. Magnolia was saying how things get more complicated as you get older. Going to parties with friends, multiplication tables, and so forth. Marigold wished she were older like Magnolia, so that she could go see the Unicorn. 

"Pardon me, chaps?" 

Had Marigold and Magnolia been on the ground, they would have jumped. 

They looked up to find an orange gargoyle male their did not know, smiling down at them. 

  
  


  
  


Tigris and Erik were blissfully in love. It was a feeling Tigris was so glad to finally be feeling again, and had sworn never to take for granted for the near thirty years they had been married. 

"So where do you want to go for our thirtieth?" Erik inquired, the two coming to stand atop the rocky crags and peaks of a mountain named Olympus on the Washington state coast. He gently stroked her hair, and her waist. His touch sent shivers through her body. Her attraction to him had yet to diminish in any way - instead, it had only grown. 

"How's the big apple with Chrissy and my mother to the conference?" 

Erik shook his head. "No, besides that." 

"You've taken me all over the world! Where else is there for you to take me?" 

"I was thinking about... Hmmm..." Erik was drinking in the smell of her hair, caressing her shoulders and her back. "...Avalon." 

"Oh...!" Tigris said in surprise. "You do take me to the most... exotic places." 

Erik's paws found her bottom end, and one other paw held one of her ample breasts which had seen the teeth of six children. She began to moan audibly, and she could feel Erik's masculinity pressing against her from beneath his breaches. 

BEEP BEEP! "Father! Mother! Come in please." Came Magnolia's voice over the two-way radio. 

A wave of ice fell over them, and Erik let go of his mate to fish the device from his belt pouch. Tigris sighed to herself, and moved over to a nearby ledge to sit, and try to recover some of what she'd been feeling a moment before - trying to herself back together again as though she'd just been shattered. 

"Erik here." 

"Are you guys done mating yet?" 

Tigris looked at Erik with a raised eyebrow. Erik shrugged. Kids say the darnedest things sometimes. 

"No, we haven't even started yet. What's wrong?" 

"We met another gargoyle. He wants to see you two." 

"Bring him over to the peak. We'll wait here." 

Erik turned to his mate, who looked a little depressed. "I'd cast the birth control spell and everything." she looked forlornly at the ground. 

"The night is still young, my angel." he tried to comfort her. 

  
  


_ The night was filled with shadows, and of the shadows the dreamer emerged. Her wings were as glorious as the moon, and her face shone from between them like a shadow with two long glowing ruby crescents. He was there also. His wings were of the night, and his eyes were as white as the silver light of the moon. She was the moon, and he was the light, and together their spirits danced about upon the night. _

_ Their souls touched and tickled one another, and from it a million new lights were born into the sky. His kiss was upon her lips, and she let him control her every part. She drank hungrily at his strength, and he teased at her reciprocation. His hands held her... oh his hands... oh..._

_ She threw her head skyward and cried out toward the night, only a few intelligible words escaping her lips. "Jordan... oh Jordan... oh..."_

  
  


Eric was startled when Sandra awoke from her nap that morning by running off to the bathroom. He looked in on her, to find her hair being held up over the toilet bowl as she wretched. 

Concerned, he asked if there was anything he could do. "Are you pregnant?" 

She laughed, splashing water on her face, and dressing for school. "Oh no, just a horrible dream. I couldn't possibly... *GASP*" 

Eric's eyes followed Sandra's gaze to her belly, where her hand touched a small mound in her belly. Both parent's jaws hit the floor. 

"How is it possible?" Sandra asked him. "I bled only a week ago! This must be three months of development!" she turned and looked in the mirror. Something sparked recognition in her mind, and she touched her cheek tentatively - remembering the strange, wonderful, and terrible nightmare she'd had. "Jordan!" she whispered. 

"Jordan?" Eric asked. "That gargoyle we met last night? Is he...?" Eric's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Tigris... you... You've been cheating on me!" 

Now it was Sandra's turn to be astonished. A hundred other emotions flickered across her face at the same time - especially anger. "What? No! I would never be unfaithful to you and our children!" 

"Then explain this!" Eric's voice rose an octave, gesturing wildly to her growing belly. "How long have you been hiding this from me? Haven't I given you enough? Haven't I given you everything I am?!!!" Eric was forming an edge on his voice, his eyes brimming with tears. Sandra broke out into tears before he did, turning and running from him, out of the room. 

"THAT'S IT! GET OUT OF HERE, DELILAH! DON'T COME BACK, YOU WHORE!" he shouted behind her. Sandra burst out the door, piled into a small four door metro, and tore off down the road in the madness of tears. 

Jasmine and Magnolia, eating their breakfast in the kitchen watched their mother drive away without them, and their father cursing after her. The children watched with fear. "Uh oh..." said Magnolia with a stalled mouthful of cereal. 

"Did... we do something wrong?" asked Jasmine. 

Eric looked at her, the anger fading from his eyes, as it began to settle onto him what he'd just done. Closing the door, he rested his hand on Jasmine's shoulder. "No... I think I did." 

  
  


**Salt Lake Genetic Therapy Center**

  
  


Mandy chuckled good naturedly to herself, as she stirred a small cup of herbal mint tea, and enjoyed the warmth from the fire. She and her twenty five year old companion sat on the hearth, talking about old times. 

Christyne was having trouble cheering up her old friend. Mandy's age was starting to get her down. Her children were all grown and moved away, adding a little more magic and mystical heritage into the world from their somewhat feline-oriented family. Here Christyne sat, barely old enough to be married in the first place, looking almost the same as she did fifty years ago when this all began. Or did it begin over 400 years ago? Christyne wasn't sure. 

The only differences was her hair and eyes. As many dies and genetic recoloring sessions she attempted, she couldn't get that hideous fluorescent pink color out of her hair and pupils. She looked like a human highlighter pen! The comments on the street were the worst. "Hey babe - great hair!" It was getting REALLY annoying. Don't men have any imagination? Every time she went to have her driver's license renewed, the clerk choked on her eye color, and so it remained "HAZEL". She carried a driver's licence with the same number as her original, but somehow the picture in it never seemed to change. Same hair, same eyes. 

Mandy sighed. "Oh, that's wonderful news. I wish Pacifica the best. She wouldn't be the first of her sisters to marry outside of her species." 

Christyne smiled. "They're all fay, you forget that, Mandy. They are whatever species they choose. I just wished she'd waited until she turned 21 like Corala did." 

"True. Remember dear, Tigris also married when she was 18, and you were only 19 (so-to-speak)." Mandy took another sip. "It occurred to me the other day to ask you, what happened to GT Roland?" 

"I was actually invited in an underhanded sort of way to his funeral." 

"When did he die?" 

"He was killed by a mob during the anti-gargoyles protests era in 2013, mostly because he supported us." Christyne asked with a note of loss. 

"You still care about him, don't you?" 

"Why shouldn't I? He was a great friend for a long time, and there for me at that one special time when I needed someone." she answered. 

Mandy sat back in her easy chair, watching the flames for a long moment. The tone became very solemn. "You didn't come here to talk about old times, did you?" 

"Is it that obvious?" 

"I know you, Christine Shelton. We've been through too much together. It's something very important or you wouldn't have brought it to 'the old lady'." 

Christyne's brows furrowed, straightening her skirt in frustration. "There's nothing wrong with being old, Mandy - STOP IT! I'm 400 years old, chronologically speaking, 72 years is nothing." 

"Seventy three next month." 

"Mandy..." 

"What did you come here for, then? It certainly wasn't my boundless strength and physical endurance." Mandy asked bitterly, on the verge of tears. 

"You are NOT that bad off. You don't know what old age is really like. Do you know how often I wished I had your life?" 

"But it's not fair! You'll be twenty five long after my CHILDREN forget you!" 

Mandy began to cry, and Christyne stood and wrapped her arms around her dying friend. 

In a flash of insight, Christyne asked, "They don't see you, do they?" Christyne handed her a tissue, literally out of nowhere. 

"Thom died last year, and since then the kids consider me as good as gone. You're the only one who visits me with any regularity. The kids are just so... busy." 

"I'll have you know I'm busy too!" Christyne smiled. "It's not easy lobbying congress to allow gargoyles to become members of the United States, and to keep an eleven year old from trying to pulverize her little brother." 

"Do you think we'll win?" 

She sighed. "Alone? Never. With the other clans across the US helping and supporting us? As long as mother is there to keep me from turning them all into toads, yes. After all, this whole measure is her baby - so to speak." 

Mandy was silent for a long moment. Christyne finally drew a long breath. 

"Alright, here's the scoop. Erik threw Tigris out, and she spent the day at our place. The kids notified me, and I came back on an emergency basis." 

"What?!!! Why?" Mandy asked. 

"Somebody knocked her up. Their little clan encountered a new gargoyle, one named Jordan. Jordan made some advances on Tigris, and she nicely told him to go climb a tree. They wake up the next morning, and low and behold Tigris is three months pregnant, where she'd been having her period a week before." 

Mandy scowled. "Too weird." 

Christyne nodded. "That's only the beginning. Erik overreacted, accused her of cheating on him with this Jordan guy. Erik threw her out, and called her a lot of things he's really going to regret when this is all over. When I got her, she was in fits, and I almost had to drug her to calm her down." Mandy smiled. That was her Christine, Little Mrs. Gargoyle M.D., Ph.D.. 

"Magic?" 

"Lots of sign of it, and I can prove to Erik using blood test results that whatever it was wasn't there the night before. There's more - Tigris reports she had a dream immediately before waking up this way that this Jordan character had made love to her." 

"Suspects?" 

"Assuming that Tigris, Erik, and their clan are necessary to guarding those forests in Washington, than a simple way to thwart them in advance would be to break Tigris and Erik apart." 

"Then we've got to prove that Tigris is right, that she didn't commit adultery. What makes you think Tigris is even telling the truth? She's good at magic, you know." 

Christyne was silent, looking into the fire for a long moment. "You said you'd known me long enough to know me. Tigris is my sister, I've known her long enough to know better, but experience says I need to stay open to the possibility." 

"I'm not dropping the axe on Tigris just yet, I'm just saying that you can't read her mind." 

Christyne rubbed her chin, an idea forming. "No, but Pacifica can." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


"You're going to hold this outdoors in front of humans?" Christyne asked incredulously, looking through the bridal magazine her eighteen year old 

daughter had handed her. "Are you getting married as a gargoyle?" 

"Why not, mom? Let's face it - this isn't the 21st century you grew up in anymore! Gargoyles are a little more accepted than they were in your time of the Great Reawakening, earlier this century." 

Christyne scowled, looking at the magazine more. "I just like my marriage, I guess." 

"Hey momma, no one's downing you and dad - it's just that I wanna do this our way. Besides, it's not like this is the only time I'll ever get married. There's always the next wedding." 

"Next wedding?" 

"Momma, I'm gonna outlive him eventually, and I'm trying to think of the future." 

Christyne sighed, put down the magazine, and looked at her daughter, taking hold of her strawberry colored paws. "Honey, listen to me for a second. You know we can't let the humans know we're immortal -they're just not ready for that yet. True, you'll probably change lovers after he dies, change identities, and get married again, but why wait for it? Your in love with this man, now. You're eighteen - enjoy it while it lasts - live in the moment. Enjoy that love without trying to capture the future. The future will come in it's own due time." 

Pacifica smiled, and threw her arms around her mother. "Thanks mom! Is there something I can do to help?" 

"Around here? Well, there's not much to do, but I could use your help on one thing." 

"What's that?" 

"Your aunt Tigris and uncle Erik are having trouble, and Tigris spent the day here." 

"Uh, ouch. That can't be good. What's up with them?" 

"Erik accused Tigris of cheating." 

Pacifica was silent for a moment, and looked at her mother with a puzzled expression. "Do you believe him?" 

"I don't know. I was hoping you could help me." 

"Well, I can't take you back in time like Tanya can, but I can say Tigris is telling everything she knows - she's not lying. Erik is too far from here for me to tell." 

"Well, if I can get Erik to come here, I'll let you know and you can find out, but that's enough for me to get started on. 

Pacifica paused for a moment more, as though listening for something. "Her thoughts are mostly about her children. She's feeling pretty betrayed by Erik, and what he said about her, when she knows she was loyal. She's mad that Erik didn't trust her to tell the truth, when she - in fact - did." 

Christyne tried to remember how old the children were. 

"Nine, eight and a half, eight, five, and two." Pacifica answered for her. 

Christyne laughed. "I'll bet you're dynamite in college." 

Her daughter let out a hiss. "You know better than that. I don't read anyone who doesn't wish it unless I have a need to force my way into their mind and invade their privacy for some special reason. You taught me that." 

Christyne patted her daughter's paw. "I hope you understand why." 

"It's what I would want if our roles were reversed. I'm not selfish, I'm sensitive to how other people feel." 

Christyne smiled. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


In the early half of the 2020's, a phrase had developed for women on estrogen supplements who cried too much, "estrogen heads". Tigris Euphrates was an estrogen head. Christyne discovered early on in her sister that a loss of bone density was as much a problem for gargoyle women as it was for humans, and the treatments used on humans were applied to gargoyles. Christyne was hoping to stave off bone loss during menopause by starting early, but her experimentation with her sister's hormones was something she had quickly come to regret. Estrogen replacement affects everyone differently. She couldn't just take her little sister off it cold turkey either, as this causes Tigris hot flashes, severe depression, and any number of other side effects. 

Being suddenly pregnant again didn't help matters any either. Her little sister had certainly gotten her wish - she was spending the greater portion of her youth barefoot and pregnant! Christyne was direct with her, padding straight up to her, wrapping her arms and her tail around her sister. "I believe you." 

Tigris sniffled a little, turning to face her elder sister. "You... you do?" 

"Do I lie?" 

"No, but you don't always tell the whole truth either. Why?" 

"One, a simple blood test says your body has only been pregnant for the last 24 hours or so. That's long proven scientific medicine. Secondly, Pacifica is our young mind reader - remember her? - and she reports you are telling me the truth as you know it. Lastly, you are my kid sister, I love you, and I trust you." she smiled. 

"I'm worried about my girls." 

"Erik won't hurt them, you and I know that." 

"Yes, but who knows what this Jordan character will do if he finds I'm gone. I don't trust HIM." 

Christyne nodded. That was sensible. "I agree. But Mandy is dying, and I can't leave her, and my mother also needs me in Manhattan with the upcoming conference. I've got a good repoir going with Eliza Maza, and I don't want to jeopardize that." 

"Eliza Maza?" 

"It has to do with Fay politics, honey. The Weird Sisters predicted that she and Goliath would mate over eleven thousand years ago, and that it would mark the end of the Madoc and Maeve, king and queen of the Unseelie court, which my old _friend _Obscurmalo had defected to. As far as the fay are concerned, she and Goliath are formidable mortal allies. That's part of how she became a gargoyle." 

"A gargoyle? How?" 

"She was presented with a nasty decision. She had to unite the younger races - that's humans a gargoyles - with the first half human, half gargoyle child. Xanatos's geneticists are working on it, since both Eliza is past the years of conception, but she's still young and supple enough to carry a child invitro. The problem was that is had to be a GARGOYLE that bore the egg, or else both mother and child would perish. A human woman can't lay an egg, or a gargoyle hatchling with all it's horns and claws. It's medically impossible. If she refused accept transfiguration, she was spelling out certain doom for the younger races, as this left the Unseelie wide open to come and enslave you. She didn't have much of a choice really, but has adapted very well - thanks to a lot of help from her Fay friends, Alexander especially, who did the actual transformation." 

Tigris mulled this over. "You and I were never asked first - we were never given an option." 

"The Weird Sisters are neither Seelie nor Unseelie. Oberon is still ticked at them for that whole incident before you and Erik got married. They knew that is was coming, so they didn't feel that you or I really deserved to be asked, but they knew the importance of Elisa Maza, and so they respected her like she were a Fay." 

"Getting back to Erik..." 

"I'm going to have the children show Erik the bloodwork, and have Pacifica present her findings. If he doesn't believe it, and still won't take back what he said about you, then I don't know what we'll do. I want you, though, to stay here until I can figure out how you a whole trimester into a pregnancy without more than a few hours going by." 

Tigris sighed, and settled herself down into the examining bed, trying to get comfortable. "Can I use the bathroom?" 

  
  


  
  


"Are they gone?" Tigris inquired. 

"Yes, they've left. It will be a few days, thought. Tanya was not able to come along and shorten travel time. I told them to call." 

Tigris Euphrates nodded, and glanced back at the ceiling, where a flatscreen was showing news reports about the upcoming debate with congress about a Gargoyles being citizens and having American rights. Christyne smiled. "Elisa's really adamant about Tutela's bill." 

"Why?" 

"She wants her police badge back! Until she's declared a citizen again instead of an illegal alien, she can't carry her badge. She's got a rookie right behind her, too." Chrissy laughed to herself. "At least we're not the only ones." 

"May there be many more." 

They watched in silence, until the reports changed topics, when Tigris turned to TV off. Christyne turned to leave and do other things. 

"Wait." Tigris said. "Can you spare a minute?" 

"Sure sis. What's up?" 

"Do you ever have dreams, like I did? Where you're so enthralled with passion you don't know what's going on, but when you wake up and realize what you were doing, you feel so sick and guilty that you throw up?" 

She laughed, a little angrily. "Oh, the irony! I had one about Phantom the night before the costume party where I lost my humanity forever." 

"But you married Phantom, later." 

"Doesn't matter." 

"Is there any evidence that Jordan... touched me?" 

Chrissy's eyebrow's lifted an eyebrow, following her drift. She sighed deeply, and looked down at the floor. "Look, sis... that's... something I was hoping not to bring up with you for a while. However, since you've brought it up, now's just as good a time as any. Did you and Erik do IT that night?" 

"No. Never got around to it. Jordan was a real ice on our night together." 

"Well, somebody did." 

Tigris blinked in confused. "I thought... you believed me." 

"I do. Tigris, honey, little sister, I don't know how, but you had sex with someone that night. Your gyno proves it." 

"You mean Jordan...?" 

"I don't know, but if he did, then you were raped. He may have used magic to keep you from knowing what you were doing at the time." 

Tigris covered her face in her paws. "No... no... no..." she began to cry again. 

Christyne sighed, and turned. As she left the room, she vowed to catch the creep who did this. 

  
  


**Drake Castle, Isle of Man**

**November, 1679**

  
  


The young hatchling with the Salmon/pink skin was thrown into the mud with a sweep of her opponent's blade. 

"Keep your guard up, Malcora." Demona reminded her young protégé. "You'll be surprised how many humans will mercilessly take advantage of you when you leave your guard down." 

Determined, the young gargoyle was back on her feet, determined to please her teacher. When her weapon was thrown from her paws once again, she met her opponent hand-to-hand they wrestled for a few moments, until Malcora once again found herself laying in the mud. She looked up, to see Demona holding her sword against the hatchling's vein of life. 

However, she did not strike. She withdrew. "Don't feel badly, youngling. You are learning swiftly. I only do this to challenge you to keep learning more." 

Malcora swept the mud from her body, former opponents took hold of eachother's upper arms. "Until the morrow night?" 

"Yes, I will teach you more then." Demona said, smiling. 

Another gargoyle approached her. "My queen?" 

"It's alright. Malcora has a sharp wit, keep mind, and won't rest until she learns everything." 

"She has been blessed with great fortitude." said the other. 

"She will someday make a great warrior." 

"Is she the one, then?" 

"Yes. I choose this youngster. Do you have the incantation?" 

The other handed a scrap of paper to the red maned gargoyle queen. In the distance, they watched the youngling as Demona recited the Latin, and pointed her finger once in the small girl's direction. The writing on the script of parchment glowed, and then burned away. Demona passed out on the ground, into the arms of her companion. The others were totally oblivious to what was happening. In several long minutes, Demona recovered. 

"New she will always be your willing servant." said the other. "Her free will itself has been enslaved to your will." 

"Yes. The demands of the spell were that the spell caster exchange their life to enslave the other's will and self-control for the duration of their life. Fortunately..." Demona smiled. "I have plenty of lives left. Now only Oberon himself can break the spell." 

  
  


  
  


With a terrifying snarl and roar, the younglings and adults like broke from the stone forms. The rookery were situated on the inner balustrades of the Drake Castle, where both human and gargoyle alike could watch after their safety. That is, all but one. Tutela, the blood red gargoyle woman, stood above her little hatchling, alongside her mate - the beaked blue gargoyle with the shock of white hair. Malcora was a special case. They knew Tutela had once been human, so she just asked that her most precious youngling remain at her side. Malcora was twenty now, the human equivalent of a ten year old, and Tutela discovered her hatchling had Christyne's near-photographic memory, and applied it to her skills of swordplay and studies in the arts arcane. Tutela also encouraged her youngling to spend some time reading the literature and poetry of the time. She was taught how to read and write in Gaelic. She developed in wit and strength. She was admired in her rookery for her skill - they could already see that someday her wisdom would lead the clan of the Castle of the Drake. Tutela and Malcora were so very gargoyle-like, and once Tutela was taught battle skills, they both were very strong members of the clan, and so indispensable that the members of the clan who did not like their human roots, soon forgot them or considered them immaterial. 

Young Malcora was past the age of decision, and was given the right to fight in the clan's battles. Her quick thinking and agile movements of youth impressed her elders. She was placed aside the dark grey/ebony haired Lisonja - the night-dark gargoyle. Some said that Lisonja was the hatchling of Macaren - an old night-colored male who was the shoulder companion of Malcora's father Padrecor, but it was only a rumor, as Lisonja was considered by all to be a "Child of the Clan". 

When she reached the age of mating, to humans the age of 18, she was considered by many to be very beautiful. Since she had been ten and had started studying under her mentor, Demona, she felt very drawn to her cause, and spent much of her time at Demona's side. Unlike her human counterpart from long in the future who was quite homely, Malcora was sought after by several gargoyle suitors. However, Malcora's devotions were to duty, and that meant her life at Demona's side. 

However, after another year had passed, this all changed. 

Relations between nations had become tense with all the crisis taking place in that century, and the leaders of their castle became very suspicious of their allies, the Spanish ambassadors. The Spanish Gargoyle clans had all vanished, and Demona was infuriated. Lisonja was given a secret disguise as a human, who went among the Spanish because of her ease speaking their tongue, along with Macaren. Her news was grave - the clans were destroyed, but if by the Spanish, the English, or the French she could not tell, and reported that there was the chance of fighting between the human nations. 

"THIS IS INTOLERABLE!" Demona exclaimed. "Never in ten thousand years have gargoyles suffered so much death! The last time this happened was when Oberon was fighting Madoc. Gargoyles were destroyed by day, and so the practice of keeping our eggs underground was born. Now humankind hate and fear us - how will our eggs survive the next thousand years?" 

No one disagreed with the seriousness of the situation, but the nobles of Drake Castle swore to protect their gargoyles and their eggs, and so the issue was at a standstill. 

  
  


**May, 1696**

  
  


Hand to hand combat was the lesson, and for teaching material, Malcora and a human chief fought each other to demonstrate the moves and the technique involved. As the last round of demonstration ended, the human chief found his arm caught in Malcora's grip, and she slung him forcefully over her shoulder, and into the mud. 

"Well, I'm impressed!" he said. "I've never lost to a woman before!" 

Malcora offered him a paw to help him up. "I'm not just any female." 

While the instructors spoke to the their students, the two presenters spoke in a stiffly lighthearted manner. "So, do you always hit so hard?" 

"No, I usually hit harder, but that would have made the match uneven." 

He laughed. "So you're saying you held back from me? I'm disappointed!" 

"If you'd like, I could match you with my full strength." 

He laughed. "Perhaps sometime, but not right now." 

"Then I have duties to attend to." 

"Must you?" 

She turned and looked back at him. "My duty is my life." 

"Duty, honor, strength - when do you ever take time to be a woman, Malcora?" 

She was taken aback by this statement. She had not thought that she was neglecting herself. Yet this human's statement held a grain of truth. She had been so devoted to Demona and learning to become a great warrior and sorceress, had she neglected her birthright as a woman? She was no longer a child. She was thirty seven years old, plenty old enough now to seek her mate. Surely Demona would approve if she found herself a gargoyle mate. 

Then how, she reasoned, How would the dark-hearted one learn to open up her heart? 

"What about a walk in the forest? The moon is full out tonight." he offered, interrupting her thoughts. "We can try and see who best each other in hand to hand combat if you want, or we can count stars - whichever you'd like to do." 

Before, she would have rejected the notion as silly, but instead she felt moved by something deep inside her soul. 

"I won't be here at the castle for very much longer." he said, picking up his mace, and tying it to his belt once more. "I'd hope you would concede to spend some time with me." 

She looked at him. "What is your name, human?" 

He extended his palm. "Sir Joseph, but that's just Joseph to you, my Lady Malcora." 

  
  


**Present Day**

  
  


Christyne had been visiting Mandy again. Her condition was worsening. Mandy wanted to be left alone to not burden anyone when she died, further frustrating Christyne who didn't want her to die alone. It was a rather gloomy night as Christine pulled up the driveway in her rather beat up 2022 Mercury Talon - a small coupe-sized car, not unlike her father's old Toyota Tercel. It was almost/yellow color like her daughter Carribea 

Christyne's thoughts immediately went to Carribea, who would soon turn twenty one, and wanted to enter the police academy like her sisters. Pacifica was the only other one of her daughters who were old enough to seriously consider it, and Pacifica was the only one to decline thus far. She didn't feel the urge to protect her community as much as her sisters, more inclined to follow her Fair Folk blood. Christine didn't force the issue, although Phantom had expressed his displeasure. 

She held her jacket close to her, anxious to get into the caves where she would be warmer and could drop all pretenses. It was a cold, wet February - further reinforcing the fears of ecologists that changes in the atmosphere were causing the desert land of Utah to be turned into a Rain Forest, and give the Salt Lake flood management people waking nightmares during spring runoff season. 

She made her way to the mailbox that sat out on the road, marked "PHANTOM", and found a few envelopes, which she placed in her jacket pocket, idly thinking about how the public would react if Elisa and Goliath did manage to have a human/gargoyle hybrid child. She was so engrossed, that she didn't see someone walking along the side of the road, and the two of them walked right into one another. 

She blushed. "Sorry - I wasn't even paying attention." 

He smiled back, and began to run down the road in the direction her had come. Suspicious, she checked her jacket pocket - the letters from the mailbox were missing! 

She vaulted into a run, shifting as she went into her gargoyle self. "HALT! POLICE!" she shouted. Her hand went under her spandex top, and came out with a white/grey gun. The perpetrator did not stop. "HALT OR I'LL OPEN FIRE!" Again, the perp failed to respond. 

"I guess that's fair warning." she said to herself, and pulled the trigger. A bolt of red shot out of her laserpistol, and intercepted the man right in the back on his knee. All that police training was finally paying off, her aim was improving! 

He went down, and the first thing she found was her family's mail in his possession. Out came the cuffs. "You're under arrest for mail theft which is a federal offense. You have the right to remain silent, anything..." 

The man interrupted her. "What kind of a cop are you?" 

Christyne shifted to her normal nighttime self. The man gasped in horror. Christyne pulled out her badge. "Detective, SLPD." She read him her badge number, and finished mirandizing him. 

  
  


  
  


"HALLO, Mrs. Phantom!" said one of the officers waiting at the county building. Considering her marriage to Arion, and the fact that, as far as they were concerned Christine P. Shelton was dead, the name Mrs. Christyne Phantom was a little less conspicuous. The didn't know that the murdered woman and the gargoyle detective were the same person. They weren't ready to know, either. 

The city/county building was a large gothic structure with it's own share number of gargoyles, where her family had spent the day many times. It was surrounded by a large park and trees, so Christyne alighted herself on the roof, and climbed down the side to a certain window with an outdoor latch. The window was high enough off the ground to keep human intruders out, but just right to let Christyne and her perp through. "What have you got tonight?" 

"A little bit of personal business. Book him for mail theft, and see if you can get a search warrant - I want to know how long this has been going on." he said. 

"Whose mail was he lifting?" 

"Mine." 

The officer, a tall negro man named CJ Johnson with badge No. 597, laughed. He had a jolly, roar of a laugh. "Wow, buddy - did you EVER pick the wrong mailbox to steal from!" 

"She's just a woman!" 

"She's a cop, AND a gargoyle." CJ noted. 

Christyne just snorted. "Pig." 

"Gee, Chrissy - I didn't even know you GOT mail!" 

Christyne was not laughing, however. Out of curiosity, she glanced at the mail she had taken back from her perp. There was a letter for Atlantica from her friend in Florida. A letter for Christyne from a clan in the Los Angeles area she knew, two instant money offers, three credit cards, a get-out-of-debt-free offer, and something addressed to Tigris. Tigris? Since when did she get mail here? It had no return address, but was post marked Olympia, Washington. Good thing she'd gotten this letter back - it might be Erik writing to apologize! 

That left one question - why was this thug stealing her mail. Was he working for someone? Did he want the credit card offers, or was there something else here that he wanted to steal? How much more of her mail had been stolen in the past? 

She ran the man's fingerprints through Interpool and was soon awarded with an ID match. This guy had a rap sheet about as long as her arm, mostly petty theft, vandalism, and robbery, with a few cases of forgery and extortion. Not good. 

Unlike when she had been growing up, in the 2040's credit card companies had made it a lot harder to get a faked credit card, mostly because when a con rings up a large bill on an innocent person's account, the government will pay part the debt, the criminal - by law - has to pay part of it, but it's the credit card company who has to eat the remaining difference. Photos were used on the card, but that didn't stop Internet them from using the Internet to run up the bill. 

It's not like she was worried about money - she could afford it with all the ideas she had patented in the last fifty years, but that also made her a great target for a scam. Goddess only knows how many times Alexander Xanatos had been hit by someone trying to steal from his father's riches. Worse still - how had they known which mailbox was hers? How would they know that her little, beaten up mailbox in the mountains would have a million dollar balance? Did the thug even know? Christyne smelled a rat - was she really seeing the whole picture here? 

CJ walked into the squad room as the gargoyle sat hunched over her computer. 

"You okay? You look pale." 

She gave him a look. "Very funny, CJ." 

"Paler than usual, I mean." he quickly recovered. "Something going on?" 

She sighed, caping her wings around her shoulders. She and CJ were old friends. Christyne suspected that the two of them got along so well, because people were not overly fond of them being police in a mostly white state. "Huh, you got me CJ." she sighed again, deeper this time. Her voice was very soft and low. "I've been watching an old friend from when I was little - a human friend - slowly dying from her window in an old's folk's home." 

He sighed too, sitting on the corner of her desk. "Where's your hubby tonight?" Christyne looked down at her desk. 

"At home watching the kids. We try and trade off our schedules when I'm in the office. When were both away from office, we get the kids together and kick some butt." 

"Whatcha gonna do about your friend?" 

She looked up at him. "I dunno... I might bring her to my place, where she can pass away among friends. But, that's not the problem..." 

"What is?" 

Christyne looked at her feet, her tail wrapping tightly around her ankles. "It's like I'm the enemy here. I would only be twenty five, and she's... I feel so..." 

There was a long silence. 

"What your trying to say is that you feel bad, outliving her, because you're a gargoyle." 

She smiled, not looking up. "Bull's-eye." 

"You can't help what you were born as anymore than I can change the color of my skin." 

"Doesn't matter to all those freaks who begrudge me the very fact that I was born." she said with a note of bitterness. "You know who I mean." 

He looked off in another direction, not looking at anything in particular. "Yeah, I know the likes of 'em. Yours is a truly unique problem, I can't think of any really good advice to give you, except for this: We are the way we are for a reason. I doubt your friend will hold what you are, against you." 

She smiled a very genuine smile. "Thanks CJ - you're a true friend. I keep forgetting that people like you exist sometimes." 

"It's like reminding someone you still care. Drop by my office anytime." 

She smiled, and thanked him again, as he walked by - in the direction of his office. She closed down her computer, filed her paperwork into her desk and locked it. She then turned and followed CJ too his office, so that she could be on her way back home like she'd originally planned. 

  
  


  
  


"Oh, you can just shove your stupid protests, Mandy. This time I'm putting my foot down." she snarled. It was a pretty scary sound, even though Christyne was in her human apparition for the time being. 

Christyne was signing Mandy out of the home, and taking her friend home with her, to spend her final days surrounded by friends when her family didn't want her anymore. She would not stand for Mandy to sit here and sulk in her depression of her family abandoning her in her final days. 

"Won't you listen to a dying woman's last wishes, Christyne? I refuse to burden anyone in my death!" she exclaimed as much as she was able to. Christyne made a mental note to bathe the woman when she got home - she smelled of urine. 

"That's exactly what I'm doing, Mandy. You are burdening me and my family - who all love you - by sitting here and withering away with depression. The best way for you to put my mind at ease, and the entire family, is for you to come with me, and be with us, where we can all show you how much we care." 

Mandy grumbled. "I've been cleverly manipulated by you again. Drat." 

"What are friends for? Besides, I need your help." 

"Help? What possible good can I be?" 

"Tigris is laid up, and I want you to keep her company, and to bring her out of her depression." Christyne instructed her. If Mandy succeeded, she hoped doing so would bring Mandy out her own depression as well. It was worth a try. 

After packing her things and her wheelchair in the back of the coupe, Christyne stopped at the post office by the county building to arrange to have her mail sent to a box. From there, they went up the canyon a short distance to where the cave was hidden in the mountains. 

"Where's Phantom?" she asked, once she was inside. She wore her gargoyle form after leaving the home, to give her the strength to hold Mandy, and her luggage in her arms. It got her some funny looks at the intersections and when people pulled along side of her on the freeway, but she didn't care. Once inside and they were on marble floors, she set Mandy down into her wheelchair, where she could move about more freely. 

"Now, do you want me to look into getting you a scooter or something? That would make if easier to get around? Knowing Alexander, he could find something that even has a protective shield and weapons on it. 

She laughed weakly at this. "Sure - why not? Sound like more fun than I've had in weeks!" 

Phantom appeared - literally out of nowhere. "What's up, honey?" he asked, giving her a peck on the cheek. She smiled. "I caught someone stealing our mail tonight, and took him downtown. He's got a rap sheet that includes forgery and extortion. Mandy's staying with us now - her family has basically abandoned her. I've asked her to talk to Tigris. Here, Mandy - give this to her - it was in the mail I took off our perp tonight. I've also got one for Atlantica..." 

Tigris looked at the letter with suspicion. Something didn't feel right about it, she said. Mandy and Chrissy watched as she opened it, turned it over a few times, and skimmed the contents. 

"Is it from Erik?" Christyne finally inquired. 

"No, Jordan." 

"...and?" 

"He wants me to come back to him, for me to leave Erik, and marry him." 

"I wonder how he'd react if we were both there." Christyne suggested. 

"I'm worried about my girls." Tigris restated. 

  
  


  
  


**Olympia, Washington**

  
  


Three gargoyle females hunched in the brush behind the home of Eric and Sandra Xanatos, colored tan, almond, and dusty blue, their ages ranging from their twenties with the first two, but the dusty blue one could hardly be fifteen or sixteen. 

"Why haven't they come back yet?" 

"I don't know, but I smell a rat." 

"Huh. All I smell is Carribea's lack of underarm deoderant." 

"Shut up, Atlantica." 

Corala snarled at her two younger sisters. "Atlantica, wanna take a look inside the house?" 

The fifteen year old grinned impishly, and her form rippled in the air like rings on a pond, and vanished. Her older sisters sighed in relief. There was no sound, as Atlantica picked her way noiselessly through the undergrowth. The only thing a person would have seen was a small indentation in the grass under her feet. Even her sisters couldn't follow her if she moved stealthily enough - and stealthy was her life! 

The front door was open. Out came Atlantica's laser pistol. She preferred a sword and dagger, but father had always warned her never to bring a knife to a gun fight. Sword were only useful against other gargoyles and fair folk - humans demanded science. Slipping up the stairs, none of the children were in their beds. Downstairs there were no lights, no one to be seen. Atlantica tried the lights - nothing happened. There were bed sheets scattered all over the livingroom. Atlantica could smell the lingering scents of Erik, Tigris, and her children. There were also some human smells she didn't recognize - and a lot of fear. 

  
  


She picked up the phone. No dial tone. She tore it from the wall, she would need it. She went around to the back of the house. There was the power meter, smashed apart, and there were talon marks on the wall. Sure enough, the phone line was among the lines cut. She peeled back the layers of the line. There were two sets of wires, one for the computer, and the other was the phone line itself. She used her talons to expose the bare wires, and twisted them together, and was rewarded with a dial tone. 

If a person had stood there watching, all they would have seen was that the phone line in the back of the house had vanished, but then came Atlantica's voice. "Hello, give me the police, please. I think there's been a kidnapping. The Xanatos home not far from the Bible College, next to mountains. There's signs of a struggle, the power box is smashed, and the phone lines have been cut. There's no one home. My name is Atlantica. Me and my sisters came to see if the family was okay after dad and mom had an argument, and mom left to stay at our place. I spliced the phone line to one of the phones, and I'm calling you from out back. Sure, my number is 801-555-9172. Thanks." 

She set the phone down in the grass and considered her options. Her principal weakness was that she became visible upon turning to stone during the daylight, so if she was in "stealth mode", she had to be out of gargoyle shape before dawn. Which was, unfortunately, not far off. She reappeared in front of her sisters. 

"Well?" 

"Deserted. The power box was demolished by a very strong fist, and there are gargoyle marks in the wall. The place is a mess, I'd guess they were kidnapped." 

The eldest, Corala, winked, and gave her a thumbs-up. "Way to go, rookie! What do you think comes next?" 

The three shimmered again, reforming in a shape that appeared human, but was betrayed by thinly pointed ears. "We go _incognito_!" the younger one smiled. 

  
  


  
  


As they suspected, there were also two other thugs watching the house. When they saw three women come walking casually up the street and knock on the front door, they were ready to drop on them. 

That was their first mistake, only they didn't know it. 

In a flash the smallest disappeared into thin air, and the other two swung around as though they were walked on air itself. One was given a swift kick in the chest that sent him sprawling, the other hit across the head with the butt of a gun. 

Atlantica shuffled through their pockets, and produced a small hand-radio, which was buzzing. "Well? What happened? Did you get them?" 

Corala did her best imitation of a man's voice. "Yes sir, shall we bring them down to you?" 

"No - I'll have a truck come down to pick them up." 

Corala smirked, and shut the radio off. "Sucker." 

With a little spell exchanging appearances illusion, the two older sisters appeared to be two human male thugs, while on the ground next to them were two elven-eared women. The third, however was nowhere to be seen. An army-style cloth canopy truck appeared about an hour later, to pick them up. As it was daylight, there were no sign of gargoyles, but three humans with automatic weapons, and a driver - each with strongly Asian features. 

"I trust they weren't hurt too badly, Modivo-san?" 

Corala and Carribea glanced at each other. Corala spoke up in her masculine voice imitation. "Oh, they'll remember us for quite a while, sir." 

"Excellent. We've found their little rescue party, and now it's time to ruin their hopes of being rescued." 

Carribea looked at her sister with a strange look, and Corala shrugged. The two sat next to each other - probably a little closer than two men would, but they were talked to each other in whispered tones. The leader who had addressed them before looked at them conversing, but hadn't said anything yet. 

"Asians?" 

"Japanese, probably." 

"The Yakuza?" 

"I think so." 

"I'd heard they were operating in Seattle and Tacoma. There's a clan there trying to weed them out." Corala pointed out. 

"Any luck?" 

"Not much, other Japanese immigrants fear them, and do whatever the Yakuza tell them too. When the people won't help, police work stops." 

"When did this Yakuza thing start?" 

"Earlier this century. They already had foothold in California, and spread here, and to New York." 

"So the Manhattan Clan has to deal with them as well?" 

"Yep." 

"What about the claw marks at the house?" 

"I imagine we'll find out when we get to Olympia and meet the others who are involved in this little operation." 

"You two SHUT UP over there or I'll shut you for you!" said the leader in a thick Japanese accent. 

The two girls in disguise were quiet, although one whispered to the other, "Steady sis - steady." 

After about an hour of silence as the truck made it's way around the freeway from Port Angeles, around the bay, and to the city of Olympia, something very strange began to happen. 

One of the Yakuza men with the semi-automatic weapons started to giggle and guffaw. Everyone looked at him. The other flunky of the Japanese leader was a woman, who smacked the giggling gunman around with the back of her hand. The Yakuza tended to have more and more women in their ranks since they first came to America in the early part of the twenty-first century. It probably had something to do with the American attitude influencing their politics over the last fifty years. Criminals sometimes didn't care where they got recruits from. The poor giggling gunman began to bat away at thin air, as if trying to rid himself of the itch. 

Corala suddenly, very loudly, cleared her throat and gestured toward her side of the truck in a vague way, trying to make it look like she was straightening her collar. The gunman's guffawing stopped, as he tried to recapture some semblance of a serious air about him. Someone in the truck giggled, and Corala and Carribea knew it wasn't the Yakuza. 

They pulled into a cinder-block warehouse on the bay in the city of Olympia. The two gargoyles incognito were ordered to pick up their two quarrey and place them in a holding cell with several others. The two girls went in with their prey to untie them and the door was locked behind them, and the guard would come back in five minutes. In one corner sat a human man and his five daughters, all pale looking, watching them. 

The two untied their quandry, and turned to the others in the cell. 

"Eric Xanatos?" For a minute the disguise rippled away, and Corala appeared, in her eleven form. "It's alright. We'll get you out of here." 

Then Corala vanished and was a human thug again. Carribea touched the bars once and rubbed her fingers together. The guards returned and let them out, leaving the two real thugs looking like elven girls in the bottom of the cage. 

There was a glimmer of hope in the eyes of Eric and his children. 

"The bars are a mesh of heavy metals and a single carbon molecule on the outside shell. Even as gargoyles, they can't get past that. Not without our help." one whispered to the other. "The walls are sheeted with it too." 

"You mean Adamantium?" 

"Exactly." Corala sighed. Adamantium was the name Christine had given to her "organic metallurgy", or C-60 molecular creations, named by Tanya as the light-weight indestructible metal used by the X-men in Marvel Comics. 

"Where would they get Adamantium?" 

"The hunter who stole it from mother twenty years ago, must have cut their losses and sold out to the highest bidder when mother and father ransacked their operation fifteen years ago." 

"Goddess knows, the Yakuza have the money." 

"Yeah... the means and the motive." 

"So... the only question is Why?" 

"We need to radio mother, and get some backup. This is gonna be too big for three of us." 

They were led to an office where a large man sat in a reclining office chair, and a stone-encased gargoyle stood in one corner. "Good work you two." Said the man in the same Japanese accent. "What makes you think these two are the ones we're looking for?" 

Corala went back into her masculine imitation. "Because these two fought back, sir." 

"Thank makes sense to me. You may go. Yama-san will pay on your way out." 

Once outside his office, they slipped down the hall, and into the men's bathroom. Corala stuck her head out and whispered tersely. "ATLANTICA!" 

"Behind you." said the small blue gargoyle with snowy white under her wings. The two older sisters jumped, glared at her, latched the door, and looked down at her. 

"You almost got us killed!" 

"They could suspect us even now." 

"Hey!" Atlantica protested, "I couldn't help it! He was ticklish!" 

"Now how do we get out of here?" 

"I saw we downsize." Carribea suggested. There was a flicker of tiny lights, and she reappeared less than a quarter inch tall, hovering at eye level in a very elven form. The others did the same. 

"Follow me!" Corala exclaimed. 

Up through the ceiling vent, through a few aluminum ducts, and they were out the vent in the roof. There was a small satellite dish mounted in one corner, and Corala whizzed right up to it. 

"Atlantica! You're the computer geek, can you use this to radio mother?" 

"I'll need some stuff." 

Carribea growled in irritation. "Very well, what do you need?" 

  
  


  
  


In the cell, Eric and the children stirred nervously. The girls had stopped crying, and a nervous still hung over the air. Two security men conversed and laughed in Japanese while watching some racy porn film on the Playboy Channel from a monitor in the corner. This went on for a while, with the two guards looking back at their prey occasionally, until finally - quite to Eric's relief, the television flickered and changed to static. 

"Ah! Stupid American television!" they muttered, one leaving the door to go do something about their TV, the other smacking the television set uselessly. 

It was during this, that a small speck in the air suddenly became a very large one, and Corala cast a spell on the man that put him to sleep. Taking his access card, she swiped her way in the cage, relocked the door, but kept the access card. Throwing him in the pile with the real thugs, they immediately lost their illusion and became the two thugs that they normally appeared to be. The elven girl knelt down next to Eric. 

"What's going on, uncle?" 

"You're one of Christine's girls, I see that - but which are you? I've never met you in this form - I've only met you all as gar-girls." 

"I'm Corala, the oldest behind Tanya. Tanya's already moved away and has a clan of her own now 

"How's Tigris?" 

"In bed, worried about her children, but otherwise fine." She reached into her blouse, and produced a white legal size envelope folded once down the middle. "Here are the test results. Blood tests show she's only been pregnant since that one night, and mother discovered magic was involved. Pacifica even scanned her thoughts - she thinks she is telling the truth, and remembers things the way she told them. Pacifica's written statement about her scan on Tigris is in there." 

"She was telling the truth then." Eric concluded. 

"Why are you being held here?" 

"I don't know who these people are, but they are planning some kind of movement in Washington, and this little lot was ordered to make sure gargoyles didn't interfere. We've never really kept it a secret we were out here trying to bust small crime, but we never thought to defend the house before during daylight because we don't have to turn to stone if we don't wish to, but I'm no match for them as a human. One of the conditions of the spell we use NOW denies us the ability to use are gargoyle forms during daylight unless we want to take an extended nap." he explained. 

"What kind of action are they taking on the state of Washington?" 

"I don't know." 

"I'll find out. I'll be right back." 

  
  


**Salt Lake City, Utah**

  
  


"I just got a message from the girls. They say they're fine, but they're calling for reinforcements." Christyne replied. 

"What's going on?" 

"It's a text message, and I can't seem to find any way to reply to it, because it's not exactly email, more like a transmission aimed at us. Well, I could, but it would take too long. Anyway, there was only one clue as to what's going on." 

"What is it?" 

"One word: Yakuza." 

Phantom winced. "I'll break out the heavy weapons." 

Tutela piped up. "I'll call Keturah and Tanya, Ket's still got a few good fights left in her. Numbers are WAY against you, Christine. There's no way you can do this alone." 

Christyne sighed in reservation. "Then it's time we call for help ourselves." 

  
  


**Manhattan, New York**

  
  


"Look alive everyone! We've got trouble!" shouted Alexander Xanatos to his gargoyle friends who were just shaking the pebbles and dust of stone sleep from their bodies. They all gathered around the gold statue of Hudson. 

"What is the commotion, friend?" Goliath inquired, Elisa at his side. 

"The Yakuza are going to make a surgical strike of some kind on the west coast, and felt the need to eradicate the threat of a certain clan of gargoyles prior to taking their action. It's sad really - they didn't come to me first. Nobody remembers their manners anymore." he said this last part in a thoughtfully mournful tone. 

Goliath's eyes were aflame. "Which clan?" 

"The Olympia clan, where the clan mother is Christyne's younger sister." 

"Christyne? The one from Utah?" Elisa inquired. 

"The same. Christyne sent in her three most capable daughters to handle the situation, but this message arrived not more than an hour or two ago, that her girls just radioed for help. She's sending in the last of her clan, but that's only three gargoyles at the most. They're asking for help." Alexander held up a fax in his hand, with the signatures of both Tutela and Christyne on the bottom. 

Goliath sighed, frustrated. "It's so close to the conference, I don't want to risk leaving here unless we have to." 

"I know what you mean, Goliath, but I can't help the feeling there's something bigger going on here." Elisa echoed. "It doesn't add up, there's gotta be a bigger picture here. The timing is so... convenient." 

Brooklyn spoke up, his mate Sata at his side. "Tutela and Christyne are fine warriors, but they can't face the Yakuza alone. That's suicide!" 

"It's her children, her sister, and her sister's family we're talking about here - not to mention whatever the Yakuza has planned for this country and the upcoming pro-gargoyles conference! She has to do something! Otherwise she wouldn't be pleading for the help of other clans." Elisa advised. 

Goliath gave a low growl, and stood at the balustrade for a moment, looking down at his city. Everyone watched for several minutes while he thought. Finally he turned to Alexander. "We can get there before any of the other clans. Alexander, I will need your help." 

"Of course." 

"Send them a message we'll be there soon. Can you get us a jet?" 

Angela broke in. "Shall we call the mutates?" 

Brooklyn snorted. "No way - Shannon would fly off the handle battling Yakuza." 

Goliath agreed. "Time is of the essence - we must leave now. Tell them to protect the city in our absence. These Yakuza may strike at a distant target, but their actions could endanger my city. We are going." His tone would allow no discussion. 

  
  


**Salt Lake City, Utah**

  
  


The jet was a harrier, which hovered over the mountains, and the gargoyles took to the air, as well as one mechanical gargoyle. The jet turned, and flew back the way it had come. Another clan of gargoyles - only three this time, with one falcon winged human, rose to meet them. 

"ELISA!" Christyne exclaimed. "I was afraid you wouldn't come!" 

The two former human police detective gargoyles embraced. Christyne's eyes were stinging. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, gliding together down towards the mountain peak. 

"Just worried. I've got Tigris stabilized enough that she'll be joining us, but everyone keep an eye on her, she's pregnant, and I don't know how long her strength will last. Her body has been through quite a tidal wave of hormones lately. My daughter Tanya is here, so that makes six, including Ket." She turned to Goliath. "My three girls I sent ahead of me sent one more message saying they're safe and will meet us at a warehouse in the city of Olympia. Add the eight in your clan, that makes 17 of us. I have gargoyle armor that I want everyone wearing - neither laser, bullet, nor blade can penetrate it." 

The man in the mechanical gargoyle suit, Alexander Xanatos, spoke up. "I'll call the harrier back when we're ready. He's at the airport right now refueling. From there I'll get us to Washington." 

"A thousand thanks for that, Alexander - but there's no time." cut in Tanya, the very mature adult gargoyle woman of twenty three. "I can get us there faster." 

Tigris, Keturah, and Tanya needed to be introduced to new gargoyles, so Christyne made the introductions. Phantom seemed to know them already. "Goliath, the clan leader, and Elisa Maza." 

"Detective, NYPD." She said, showing her badge. 

"COOL!" Tanya asked with excitement. "May I see?" 

"Broadway and Angela, Brooklyn and Sata, and of course Lexington who's mate is human and stayed in New York. My sisters Tigris and Keturah, and my oldest child Tanya." 

Angela looked at Keturah with wonder. "Are you a New Olympian?" 

The armor plating was also white, very flexible, and sectional, and so she had a design for just about everyone except for Xanatos - who was already quite well armored for his tastes, and Brooklyn who was already wearing the same stuff. 

"Where's your hubby? Still in LA?" Tigris Euphrates inquired of Tanya. 

"Yes, I told him in no uncertain terms to watch our youngling." 

"What is this stuff made of?" Angela, Goliath's pregnant daughter in her early forties, referring to the armor they were donning. It was stretchy and elastic like, bit slippery to the touch like silk. It fit the bodies of the warriors closely, which was very complimentary for some, like Elisa, Angela, Tanya, and Christyne, but not so complimentary to others like Tutela and Tigris. 

"Adamantium." Tanya answered, proudly. "I named it." 

Broadway was proving difficult to fit because of his large size. Eventually Christyne had to apologize. "I'm sorry, hun - I just can't fit you. I'd need to cut a whole new sheet of Adamantium, and I just don't have the time. You'll have to do with a breast-shield only and watch your front." 

Broadway took it well, smiled, and gave her a thumbs - up. Angela hugged him. 

Christyne flashed, and reappeared in a tailor's outfit, hanging in the room like a fay. "Hmmmm... Lex I've got just the thing for you - one just like Tanya's. I can adapt one of the boy's breast plates to it so you don't look like your wearing a sports bra." 

Tanya giggled girlishly, Elisa and Angela smiled, and Lex blushed. 

Christyne went on. "There's also a helmet - over there. Brooklyn and Tutela will need a special one. Ket - those arm bands will be useless on you, just be careful not to expose your wings too much." 

It took about half an hour, but soon they were each suited and ready to go. Tutela gathered the warriors together, and Tanya snapped her fingers. "To my sisters!" 

  
  


**Olympia, Washington**

  
  


A small figure, half the size of a house fly, stood atop the door frame as the guards came in. 

"The two Americans are in the cell unconscious, the two women they brought in are missing, and someone's knocked out the satellite!" 

"Yama-san, if you are lying to me..." 

"Never sir!" 

"Did the Xanatos's escape?" 

"No sir!" 

"Good, then I won't kill you where you stand. Get your men together and go on high alert. I want to men in every hallway, and ten minute check-ins!" the fat man ordered. "Find those two! Don't you dare come back to me until you have their heads on a platter! Those two incompetent Americans..." 

With a road, the gargoyle in the corner came to life. The lackey scampered out. The gargoyle - a young, medium built, very capable looking male, yawned and shook the dust from his skin. 

"Ah, good evening Jordan. Sleep well?" 

"Like a dream." he laughed. "Everything is well, I presume?" 

"You were right, there were two women who came checking up on the house. We know they weren't just neighborly callers because they fought back vehemently - and even now escaped the prison cell, and my men are looking for them." 

"Hmmmm. I don't know how they might have escaped. Unless these friends / cousins have some kind of special talents I was not told about." 

"We must assume they do." 

The gargoyle, Jordan as he had been addressed, bowed. "I shall search for them." 

_ Corala's fists bunched up tight. Jordan had not only raped Tigris, but betrayed them to the enemy! What kind of gargoyle was Jordan?!!!_

She went up to the roof to meet her sisters and to fill them in. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


He had been told not to smoke in the warehouse. With a clink of his Zippo, it was plain to see he did not care. Shifting his .22 automatic from one hand to the other, he sucked greedily on the cigarette. It was dark beyond the stark illumination on the aisleways, as this warehouse was intended to be run by daylight. Nervously he wished those in charge of this operation would have realized that this did not make for good combat. These two could be anywhere in this warehouse. But, he and several others had all the exits blocked - they wouldn't be going anywhere. 

All the lights went out. Shouts of alarm went up. Some people had flashlights, and turned them on. The fat guy from the office came out of his office shouting "What's going on?" 

A series of lights came on in sequence. A group of figures were standing in the main doorway opposite the figure smoking his cigarette. They all were winged, and all but one had a tail as well. Some were kneeling on the floor, with others standing over them - others were lined across the tops of boxes of freight stored in the warehouse. They were all pointing large weapons in their direction, and they all wore... black sunglasses? 

There was not a clearly discernable face among them. Jordan rushed in and stood beside the fat man. Even with his gargoyle infrared vision, he still could not make out who it was behind the sunglasses - those sunglasses blocked that spectrum as well. 

Christyne had counted on that. "Where is the cell?" She asked the Yakuza in a slow tone. 

Seeing only shadows of gargoyles, holding up bright lamps to blind them, the humans began to open fire. They turned their lights out again, and the Yakuza struggled to adjust. The fay found the gunfire easily dealt with. They could slow their vision down and see the bullets coming, and bring up an arm or some other armored part of their body to deflect the spray of lead. The more mortal among them scattered in the darkness. 

There was silence in the room, as the human no longer could see anything moving to shoot at, and be sure it wasn't one of their own. "Here to me!" Jordan exclaimed. The humans gathered around him and the fat man, watching the perimeter. 

  
  


_ Clank._

  
  


A flash of light so bright the warehouse turned from night into day, and then evaporated from sight in the waves of intense light, every human in the room was holding their eyes in pain. 

Alex's voice crackled in Christyne's ear. "Very effective, don't you think? Best of all, it's non-lethal ordinance. " 

"How long will they be blind?" she asked. 

"Three hours, give or take an hour. Gargoyles will only be affected for fifteen to thirty minutes." 

"Alright everyone, split up and find the cell - and check in regularly. Try and leave some Yakuza alive to rot in jail and set an example for the others." Christyne snarled to herself, her eyes aglow with amber flame. 

  
  


Keturah and Alexander nodded to each other, and went together down the hallways. One would guess it made sense - the two humans would find each other during the battle. With Keturah holding his back, the human/fay halfling in the metal suit clanked his way down the perimeter aisle. A few men, dressed in Yakuza black with cloth wrapped around their heads had opened fire on him, but a blast from his wrist-mounted laser sent them flying. 

"Projectile weapons are SO twentieth century." he smiled to Ket. 

"I see something!" Keturah pointed down the hall, where on her sunglasses a streak of something indeterminate was highly visible on her display. 

"Incredible. I think you're seeing a magical trail." 

"Let's follow it and see where it leads." 

  
  


A whistle from behind Elisa made her head spin. She would have been too late, but her armor saved her, and she felt a thump on her back. Christyne immediately responded with her claws, and knocked the man senseless. Elisa found a five pointed round metal object on the ground. 

Elisa took a sniff, and found a fine dry powder on it's points. Poison. "Thank goodness for your armor." 

Christyne smirked. "I vowed to myself, after that battle with the hunters, that I would put a greater emphasis on protecting my loved ones, than charging blindly into a dangerous situation. That's why I asked for help this time when I honestly knew I couldn't handle it. Police training taught me when to call for backup." 

  
  


Tanya and Lexington had paired off because they were both of the same wing type, and so fought the same. They were also, ironically, similarly colored - except that Tanya bore more of a hint of purple under her under-arm bat wings, than Lex's darker green tones. 

"These are COOL!" Lex said, adjusting the sunglasses. "What am I seeing?" 

"Magic." Tanya explained. Each using a small magic stone, and using it to receive magical impulses, which the glasses display. It's one of mother's oldest inventions." 

"I ought to uplink to your database sometime and check out your work." 

"Stop by our home sometime, and we'll let you and Atlantica play computer games against each other." 

He grinned. 

  
  


  
  


Erik, now returned to his proper gargoyle form, glared at the guard wordlessly. His five young girls were huddled in the corner, waiting. A scuffle was heard, and scraping of metal. Gunfire - and a man's scream. Lastly, the sound of human flesh hitting the ground was heard. 

The massive steel and fiberglass exoframe made to look like a gargoyle appeared, startling and frightening Erik. Then a girl appeared, human, but covered in falcon's feathers, and who's arms had been turned into wings. She was wearing some kind of white skin-tight armor, and began pushing a grey doughy substance into the space between the frame and the electronic door lock. The woman ducked behind the metal man, and Erik dived backwards and spread his wings protectively over the gargoyle girls. 

The blast rocked the warehouse, and stone bits flew everywhere. One of Erik and Tigris's daughters shouted jubilantly "YES!" 

Xanatos beeped on the line. "Eagle 3 to team leaders. I've got them - in the basement under the offices in a room marked 'Janitorial'." 

"Didn't find many brooms or buckets." Ket smiled, "but we found a lot of little girls who miss their mother." 

_"My babies! Are they okay?" _Tigris's voice came back. 

"Pale and bruised, but otherwise fine." Erik replied, overhearing the conversation. 

_ "Remember- first priority is to get them out of here, and to a safe place where they can meet the harrier when it arrives. We'll deal with the Yakuza and their plans second."_

Tigris and Tutela arrived after the first two, and they began to escort their liberated family out of their cell and out of the basement. Corala and Carribea joined them soon afterwards. 

They were escorted to the roof, where all four gargoyles and two humans in armor stood guard. 

"Alright Christyne, you and Goliath have one hour. We'll call if we have trouble. The harrier will fuel in Seattle first, and then fly us out of here so that we have the most fuel possible for our getaway." 

_"Understood." _Goliath's voice returned on the line. 

  
  


  
  


Ten gargoyles in armor, and most armed with some form of weapon, from plasma rifle to sword, encircled them. The fat man lay on the floor, looking up at the gargoyles in dark sunglasses. Christyne held a radio transmitter in her one paw, and a tape recorder in the other. She connected a small microphone to the radio, and they turned to the fat man. 

"If I do this, they'll kill me - you know that, right?" 

"Would you rather face me?" Goliath asked, frightening the life out of him. Phantom grinned impishly. 

The two fates seeming about equal, the man chose to take his chances with the Yakuza - he at least understood how THEY worked. He picked up the radio transmitter, pressed a button and began to speak. Christyne began taping. 

"Okay boss, everything's at peace here. Remind me again what our plan is." 

"You fool, don't you listen to anything? The ship arrives at midnight, and we'll have three trucks there to offload it. One will go to Seattle, one will go to San Diego, and the other we will take down to Los Angeles. Our demands will be announced when we raid the pro-gargoyles summit, and we will either get our wishes, or else we will detonate." 

Christyne gestured with her gun. 

The man nodded, and continued playing stupid. "Detonate what?" 

"The nuclear bombs, stupid! What do you think is on those trucks, anyway? Lollipops? They are packed in cargo boxes." 

There were some blanched faces among the warriors. "Whoa boy." Broadway muttered to himself. 

"How will I know which ones they are to offload then? 

"They will be long cylindrical objects with a large round sphere attached at one end, all made from weapon's grade uranium we bought from our brothers in Korea." 

The fat man waved, to his captor - wanted to end the conversation. Christyne nodded. 

"Midnight then, I'll be waiting." he ended the transmission. Christyne stopped the tape recorder. 

Elisa smiled. "Airtight. If we can gum up the works now, the locals can sort it out in the morning. This evidence will put them away forever." 

Christyne's mind was already hard at work. She began to make a drawing on a crate. "This is what a typical nuclear device looks like. The whole thing will be encased in steel or iron - me and my family are going to have to stay a mile away from the thing. On the small end is blasting cap filled with high explosives like nitroglycerin, which are intended to push a slug of uranium down this tube to impact at the speed of a bullet from a gun, into the uranium bowling-ball here on the end. There's more to it, of course, but keeping this explanation simple: once those two impact at that speed, the atoms will have enough inertia to begin colliding and cause a fission explosion. Such science is so incredibly powerful, that OBERON himself would not be able to contain it. To disarm the device is simple, break or bend it in half - or rip the ball off the end. Any of the gargoyles who is not harmed by the iron covering can do it easily." 

Turning to the combined warriors, she continued. "I want one of my family with every team, we might be able to help, but in the end it comes down to you. Me, Elisa, and Lexington will take the first team. Phantom and Goliath, team with Brooklyn and Sata. Finally, I'd like Tanya to accompany Broadway and Angela. Again Goliath, Alexander, I can't thank you enough for your help tonight." 

"No thanks is necessary. I am glad now that I decided to get the clan involved. The danger here is far more serious than any of us had anticipated." 

"How soon will the harrier arrive, Xanatos?" Christyne asked the intercom. 

"Twenty minutes. They're fueling now." 

"I want you out of here before midnight. Find a safe harbor to wait at for a while, and if possible refuel. We'll signal when we're ready." 

"The family is asking if they'll be going back to their home in Port Angeles." 

"Tell them I want to examine them and have a discussion about their mother first. We'll do that in Utah." 

"Understood." 

Christyne smiled. For the owner of a multi-billion dollar company, he sure was more of a team player than his father had been. She guessed it was his mother coming out in him. 

  
  


  
  


Although initially Tigris had been bathed in hugs and kisses from her hatchlings, she initially kept a distance from Erik, who in turn kept a distance away from her. Ket and Xanatos watched the exchange with unease - unsure what to do with them as neither knew the whole story as to what was going on. The commotion was probably what reawoke Portula, who began crying again. The children handed the weanling to Tigris. 

"She won't take the bottle since you left." Rose explained. "She hasn't eaten anything." 

As she nursed the weanling, the eyes of the children flickered back and forth between Tigris and Erik. Finally, between the expectant looks of her children, Xanatos, Keturah, and those given her by her own heart, Tigris went over, and held his shoulders with her free arm. 

"Tell me, my love, that we are still mates? Tell me my children still have a mother and a father. Believe me, whatever happened it was not by my choice!" 

Erik turned and held her. "I have so gravely wronged you. I should have known you would never willingly do such a thing to me - to our children." 

"Let us not think about it. We make mistakes, just as much as the humans do." 

They embraced, Erik's wings wrapped around her, and tears in Tigris's eyes. They kissed. Erik paused, broke away, and looked into her eyes for a long moment. 

"I'm so sorry, my love... Will you ever forgive me?" 

"'Tis already forgotten, for you are in my arms again." she replied. He gently stroked her hair, and they were kissing again. 

Alexander comically put his head on Keturah's shoulder and sighed audibly. 

"Stop it!" she quickly rebuked him. 

"But I was enjoying the young lovers..." 

"You're almost as bad as Christyne and Sharm." 

"Moi?" Xanatos asked, looking up at her. Keturah couldn't see it, but behind that mask he was grinning. "Would I do something like that?" Keturah scowled at him. "What can I say? I was only raised by a trickster." 

Keturah huffed in frustration. She looked up at the sky. "Why, My Lady - Why? Do I attract them to me?" 

Alexander laughed. "If only you knew! If only!" 

"Hello, Tigris." said a voice from behind them. Tutela jumped, and was instantly ready to tackle the new figure - a male gargoyle standing right behind them. Alexander and Keturah stopped laughing and spun, weapons hoisted. 

"Stay away from me, Jordan! I don't know what you did to me, but I won't let you near me again!" Tigris crouched behind Erik with her suckling child. Erik stood protectively in front of her. Alex recognized him as the gargoyle that was with the Yakuza. They began to circle him. Jordan seemed unperturbed, smiling devilishly. "What is it you want?" Alex asked. "Otherwise clear you out or I'll clear you out myself." 

"I do not normally attack another gargoyle, but you don't deserve to live!" Erik accused him, eyes burning white. 

"A burden I am not bound by." he smiled. "Tigris my dear, I'm willing to put all this in the past and give you one last chance to come with me and be my mate, before I have to dispatch of these... pests." 

Tigris was on the verge of tears again. "Pests? These are my family! I love them! I can't leave them! You disgust me! Protecting your own kind means nothing to you - especially when there are so few of us left! You're corrupt! You're a sociopath!" 

The smile had not left Jordan's face. "But you know you like it." he said in a sick and demented way. Tigris began to groan, and finally broke out into a scream. She let go of Portula, whom Erik had to quickly jump down and catch. Erik breathed in relief, turned, and found Tigris's face pale, as she fell to the rooftop and began to writhe. Tigris was holding her head. "Stop it! Stop it, please!" 

"Leave my daughter alone!" Tutela exclaimed, opening fire at Jordan. Jordan leapt, causing the beam to destroy the antennae pylon he had been leaning against. Tutela turned, as he barreled into her from behind. The weapon went flying, as Tutela and Jordan grappled with each other, wrestling. Erik unsheathed his sword, left the babe with the other children, and joined the fray. Jasmine leapt up, standing between the fray and her younger sisters. Xanatos too padded his large metallic feet in that direction. He, however, was not looking for a fight. Alternately he looked at Jordan and the suffering mother. An orange glow had begun to form around Tigris. "Leave me alone!" she groaned, fighting with all her willpower. 

"Hmmmm... somebody likes to play with black magic." Alex pointed a hand at her, and the glow vanished. 

Tigris took a deep breath and looked up. "Thank you, Mr. Xanatos." 

"No problem. It was a spell I knew how to combat anyway. It seems that he took advantage of your existing hormonal weakness and amplified it." he replied thoughtfully. 

Tutela managed to wrestle Jordan down underneath her. It soon became obvious that Jordan was not a great fighter compared to Tutela - he depended too much on his spells and his subterfuge. 

"Oh Jooooooordan..." Tigris said saucily. Tutela and Erik stopped, standing back in a daze. She swayed her hips, and carressed her hair. Jordan smiled. 

"Glad to see we finally agree." he smiled. Erik winked at Tutela. 

Tigris motioned him forward, and he came to her eagerly. She wrapped his arms around his neck, and he placed his hands around her waist. Tigris's lips went to his neck. 

Jordan dropped to the floor in a heap, quivering. There were to teethmarks in his neck - from Tigris's fangs. His body crackled a became stone forever. 

  
  


  
  


At midnight, a large cargo ship entered the port. Yakuza men from inside the ship disembarked and began to operate the heavy machinery to remove the huge cargo containers. They selected three cargo containers, and lined them up in the yard. The rest of the ship would wait for the day crew. In Seattle, men would work 24/7 to work the docks and keep ships moving, but here things were a little more casual - exactly what the Yakuza was counting on. Olympia was an easy target for smugglers - except for one thing. Gargoyles. 

Three semis arrived from other parts of town, these also driven by Yakuza men and women. These trucks had a special trailer made mostly of a few metal beams and appropriate lights, upon which the cargo containers were dropped, and hidden mechanisms snapped into place, securing them. For added safety, webbing was used to strap down the container to small hooks on the side of the trailer rails. The men worked quickly, and all three trucks were ready to go within only a few minutes. 

The trucks pulled out, their drivers not noticing that they had a passenger that had climbing on the back of their cab between the sleeper and the trailer where the air line were stretched out. The remaining dock workers gathered together after they were finished to follow the trucks in large, expensive black foreign make cars, but were abruptly taken down. Tied down in nets, Christyne's three daughters Corala, Carribea, and Atlantica watched over them with heavy weapons. 

Down below, Broadway had implanted himself on the third, Goliath on the second, and Elisa on the first. Christyne's voice crackled on the radio. "They're gonna have to hide the trucks someplace. That's the best place to handle them." 

"That would endanger honest citizens." Elisa added. "Take them down now - quick and fast - before they reach a commercial or residential area." 

_"10-4." _replied Broadway. 

_"Understood." _Goliath added. 

  
  


  
  


Broadway's talons snapped the brake lines like brushing aside cobwebs. The truck suddenly lurched as the trailer's brakes locked shut. The truck spun wildly and out of control. Broadway tore into the back of the sleeper, startling the already frightened female driver. She produced a gun of some variety, but it hardly mattered as Broadway quickly squished the life out of it like so many grapes. 

"Pardon me!" he shouted, and one quick blow later she was out. Out of control now, the truck turned once, and was on top of itself. Broadway was pelted with the contents of the truck. 

"WHOA!" Spun off the road, it quickly came to rest. The engine idled itself, and Broadway reached up and switched off the engine key. As he was pulling himself out of the twisted mass of fiberglass and metal, Angela and Tanya landed. 

"My love! Are you hurt?" she asked. 

"Nah." he replied. "Just a little shaken, not stirred." 

Tanya walked over to the trailer, and touched it once with a talon. She was met with a spark, and was thrown backwards. In pain, she rubbed her paw. "So much for that idea. I'm gonna be basically useless here." 

"Are you alright?" Angela asked. "What happened?" 

"I'm a fay halfling - like Alexander Xanatos. At the time my mother had me she was a gargoyle, and Phantom was a Child of Oberon. Or a brother, if you want to get technical." 

"So you're vulnerable to iron, aren't you?" Angela observed. 

"Exactly. I can't help you guys except stand guard." 

Broadway smiled. "I think I can handle this, ladies." Angela put a reassuring hand on Tanya's shoulder. 

Broadway, still on an adrenaline high, pushed the trailer back upright, and tore the locking bars off the back. From there, the iron doors opened easily, and Broadway found himself confronted with a series of steel cables holding a wood crate off the ground and in the exact center of the cargo container. Snapping cables, he made his way to the box, and tore the end off. 

Inside was something out of an old Star Trek episode. Broadway gasped. It was a long shaft the size of his arm, had a bowling ball at one end, and the other end of the shaft had some kind of radio device. Broadway snarled in fury and tore the uranium ball from the end, and threw it behind him, letting it fall in the grass with a thud, sinking several inches into the dirt because of it's sheer weight. "Dang! This thing is a lot heavier than it looks!" 

"It's made of uranium, one of the heaviest metals known." 

He tore the radio off the end, and removed the blasting cap from it's housing. Taking a long stride from the trailer, he threw the blasting cap as far as he could throw it into the hills where there were no houses. There was a flash of light as the nitroglycerin exploded, and the hills shook. 

Finally Broadway took the other uranium slug out of the iron housing, and dropped it on the ground. 

"CAREFUL!" Tanya shouted. "Don't let those things touch! You don't always need nitroglycerin to make the two react!" 

Angela scowled at Broadway. He blushed. "Oops. Sorry." 

  
  


  
  


Goliath didn't even bother with the driver. Taking Broadway's lead, he cut the airlines, and held on for the rollercoaster ride as the driver struggled to regain control. Goliath took the side of the cargo container, and pulled it right apart. Snapping the cables, he took the box apart, and grabbed the cargo inside, and leapt free of the truck. With Phantom watching overhead, Brooklyn and Sata stared at the device. 

"Whoa. Now, what did she say to do?" 

"Bend it here, my love." Sata instructed. 

"I'll get it." Goliath offered, and quickly the device bore 90 degree bend in it's main shaft. The shaft itself snapped under the pressure, and came free. Goliath pinched the ends closed for good measure. 

"Careful with the blasting cap - she said there was nitroglycerin in it." Brooklyn pointed out. Taking that end of the device, he looked at the wires, and cut one with his talon. The lights on it went out. 

"Where did you learn to do that?" Goliath inquired. 

"Don't remember exactly." 

Laserfire intercepted Goliath's armor. Startled, he threw himself around to face the driver of the second truck, who had abandoned his vehicle, seeing that it's cargo was already gone. He had some kind of laser weapon and was trying his hardest to kill Goliath. Phantom had already squeezed off several shots at the human. Brooklyn's reflexes were no match for him, though, and with the large weapon Christyne had loaned him, opened a large hole in the Yakuza man's chest. 

He smiled. "Hey - I like this gun! My love? Remind me to ask Christyne if I can keep this." 

  
  


  
  


Elisa already knew to cut the brake lines, and she had herself one semi on the side of the road not far from the others. The driver had not appeared, but she knew he was in there. She had her gun out, and snuck around the side. It was tipped on it's side, so she was climbing along the side. Her weight probably made her position obvious. A laser bolt shot through the skin of the fiberglass exterior of the cab, narrowly missing part skin that was not armored, near her middle. 

She leapt over to the door, and pointed the gun straight down in. "Maza, NYPD! You're under arrest!" 

Christyne was right there next to her. She fired one shot right down into the cab where the last shot had come from. No response. Christyne tore the door off it's hinges, and looked around inside. Another laser blast - this time aimed at her face. Christyne pulled back quickly, and the sound of the windshield shattering was heard. 

The orange/brown gargoyle woman leapt down, and leaned her shoulder against the hood - pointing her gun inside. She fired off three shots from the laser pistol she used in the NYPD. All at once there was a clicking sound. 

The blast threw both gargoyles backwards. 

"He had a grenade! He killed himself!" Christyne exclaimed. 

"Kamikaze." Elisa corrected. 

Lexington had taken the bolt off the trailer door, and had opened the door manually. Inside, he opened the crate and looked at the device. Finally, he got frustrated, reached behind his head, pulled out his small interface cord, and plugged in. Lexington scowled at the device, and it crackled and went out. 

His synthetic voice responded. "That should make it harmless." 

"Still." Elisa said. She looked at the end, took off the blasting cap, and carefully handed it to Lexington, and removed the bowling ball from the end. 

Christyne smiled. "Eagle two to all teams - mission accomplished!" 

  
  


  
  


  
  


It had been a quiet night, all things considered, at the police precinct building in Olympia. The police captain was chatting lightly with he people, because aside from the usual rigamarole, nothing big or explosive was happening - which was quite unusual. However, the calm did not last for long. 

Through the front doors came two female gargoyles. The secretaries all shouted, and everyone looked up, most of them making started noises. At least three coffee cups were dropped and shattered on the floor. 

They went right up to the man in charge. "You the captain?" the orange/brown one asked. 

He nodded wordlessly, noting that the leader - the orange/brown one had a bag in her hand - an evidence bag. Both gargoyles produced police badges, and displayed them. 

"Maza, Detective, NYPD." 

"Christyne Phantom, Detective, SLPD." 

"You've got three semis with disarmed nuclear devices in a ditch by a warehouse on the south end of the bay, and a lot of tied up Yakuza. They're all yours!" the leader handed the chief the evidence bag, and inside he could see a cassette tape. 

The two gargoyle flared their wings, startling the squad office again, as they turned and walked out. One paused before walking out the door, turned to them, smiled, waved, and said. 

"Enjoy!" 

  
  


**Washington D.C.**

**a month later**

  
  


Every delegate in the United States House of Representatives were in their seats and watched in awe and disbelief as one by one, three clans and eighteen different gargoyles filed in, and were seated. Each were dressed in what could be considered business formal to Sunday formal for the children. There were two exceptions - two females in formal police uniforms, modified for a gargoyle's body. Keturah was also there, and Christyne was pushing Mandy in her wheelchair. One, a large, older looking red skinned woman with white hair, and double wings that were shaped like a butterfly, stood at the microphone to address them. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the house. First of all, let me introduce myself. My name is Tutela, hatched at the Castle Drake, sometime in September of 1646. Yes, I am old enough to make your grandparents feel like spring chickens." 

There was a little soft laughter in the room. 

"I have watched through the ages as this nation grew from a colony in Virginia, to colonies, to states, to the great nation we are today. I can tell you all about Captain John Smith and Pocahontas, I can tell you George Washington's favorite bar, the color of John Adam's wife's favorite dress, and all about the pervading odor that always seemed to surround Benjamin Franklin. When the war of 1812 finally ended I was there. When men died like flies during the civil war, I wondered how human kind could hold the lives of one another so completely without worth. I watched this nation go to war twice to fight the Germans, and I cheered on VE day along with everyone else at those ticker-tape parades, for those were true heroes. I hoped that America had learned it's lesson in Korea, but was disappointed to learn we'd gone on to do the same thing in Vietnam. Had I been able to, I would have picked up the cause for the woman's vote, equal rights for gays, lesbians, bisexual, and transgendered people. I stood there cheering as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. announced that he had a dream! A dream that people of different color would live together in harmony!" 

She shifted stance, pausing. "Then came the Reawakening. All over the United States, my kind began to come out of the stonework (if you'll pardon my pun). I've watched the nation I watched over for 200 years start to commit the same mistake over again. Just like in the civil war, America held life completely without value, and began to destroy my kind completely without mercy. Haven't we learned that every life is precious? This nation is approaching it's 300th anniversary! We are a nation of sexual and ethnic diversity, but for some reason we just can't bare the thought of diversity of species. Everyday more and more Americans undergo gene therapy for a variety of illnesses. Who's to say a genetically enhanced human being isn't a different species altogether from a natural one? Over 25,000 women enter a genetic therapy clinic every year to have their bodies enhanced[(1)][1], starting as young as fourteen years old! Where do you draw the line?" 

She shifted one last time. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the house. I'm not asking you to change the world. I'm asking you to know me. If you read nothing else of this proposal, the I want you to know me. Here, I'll introduce you to my family. Christyne is my oldest, and her devoted husband Phantom. These are their eight children - my first eight grandchildren. Christyne has done highly acclaimed work in medicine and quantum physics, and invented some of the gene therapy techniques used today to fight cancer, Down's Syndrome and liver disease. She would study at a university, but she would be considered an illegal alien. Here is my second daughter Tigris Euphrates and her mate Erik who originally is from Scotland. She has five children, all daughters, plus one more which is buried near out home in Utah. She is a devoted wife and teaches during the day at an Elementary School where her children attend. They all have to use a disguise of humans in order to fit in and live out their daytime lives. She is also a transsexual - born my only son, she went through many years of crisis and a failed marriage to get through her own person problems. And, finally, my youngest daughter Keturah, who's story is so complicated I shall not even waste your time boring you with it." Keturah laughed. "Suffice it to say she is unmarried and aging faster than the rest of us. She always did take things way too quickly." 

More laughter from the delegates. 

"In conclusion." she said, turning to the speaker of the house. "Your honor. I ask you all to consider the lives you are making for your children and mine. Time and time again we have demonstrated our desire is to protect. That is our nature. Any gargoyle that does not desire to protect their home and their loved ones is a corrupt gargoyle - and a sociopath. We were CREATED to protect humankind from the evils that lurk in the night. It is our heritage! It's what we live for. I envision a world in which a young gargoyle attends elementary school and plays on the jungle gym with every other child his or her age.** We must learn to live together, or else we will never be able to live with ourselves.**" 

With that, Tutela turned, and walked down from the stand. 

  
  


  
  


"We've done our best. Now we wait." Tutela sighed, pacing back and forth. "But we can only hold off stone sleep for a few more hours and then most of us are going to have to take a forced nap." 

"Whatever the outcome, we all did our best." Goliath agreed. 

Christyne smiled, and turned to Elisa. "Our two clans work well together." 

"Yeah - you guys should visit New York more often!" she laughed. "I'd love to walk into the new precinct building and show them I'm not the only detective with wings and a tail." A serious expression suddenly crossing her features, Elisa walked over to Tigris, who was playing with her youngest - Portula, who burbled in the two-year-old talk that was somewhere between nonsense and language. "Tigris, we did some checking on Interpool, and it turns out that this Jordan character was actually wanted in several other unsolved rapes up and down the Pacific Northwest states. You weren't his first victim." 

Tigris sighed, looking at the floor. Portula pulled on her mother's golden blonde tresses. Erik nodded, and Elisa continued. "The Yakuza we captured admitted he had been paid to break up the family of gargoyles protecting the Olympia area. True to his form, Jordan raped you." 

Christyne piped up. "It was some kind of spell that made you forget everything else, and loose all will power and self control. Alex was right, it didn't take much, given your hormone problems. It's black magic, and probably took it's toll on it's user. He may have used the spell at every single one of his rapes." 

"Jordan expected Erik to overreact, what he didn't count on though was you bringing back reinforcements once Chrissy discovered the rape. He really wasn't very bright, and thought only about sex. The Yakuza told him to leave you alone once you left, but he didn't listen. He sent you that letter at Chrissy's place, trying to get another night in your panties, but the Yakuza tried to get someone to get it away from you. They didn't count on Chrissy dragging him into the cops. He eventually admitted everything. As for Jordan, I'm willing to bet the Yakuza would have killed him for making a deal with them and then breaking it, if we hadn't done it first. If the Yakuza ever get ahold of his remains, they'll probably smash them to rubble." 

Goliath sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, even Gargoyles are not immune to the effects of desire..." He turned, lookiong at the young lovers Tigris and Erik. "...and deception." 

"They say that cops make the best criminals." Elisa pointed out folding her arms around her middle. 

"If there can be gargoyle criminals like Demona, it just figures there are rapists and sociopaths too." Broadway deduced. He turned to his mate. "Sorry Angela." 

"What will you do about the egg?" Sata asked Tigris, referring to four-month pregnant belly. "It's probably another side effect of that spell." 

"Yes, and I'm a little worried we'll have a real demon on our hands. I'm pouring a lot of positive magic into the baby to keep it from being affected anymore by the black spell Jordan cast on you that night." Phantom grumbled. 

She and Erik smiled. "We'll keep it, making sure that he or she grows up and has every chance to be the good protector that his father wasn't. Erik and I still have about ten years left if we want to have some of our own. As for the rest, we've already had a chance to... make up." she giggled. Erik drew Tigris up to his lips again, and they kissed. Tigris placed her hands on his chest, she raised one foot from the ground, and her tail snaked it's way around Erik's leg. Erik stroked her long blonde hair. 

Elisa looked at Christyne. "You say she used to be your **BROTHER**?" 

"Yeah, but he ALWAYS acted like that." Christyne replied. "He asked me if I had a boyfriend yet almost every day I was in college." 

"Things are not always what they seem." Goliath smiled. "Even little boys." 

Owen Burnette opened the door, and Alexander Xanatos walked in, in his Armani suit. "Ladies and Gargoyles, they're ready. Shall we go in?" 

  
  


"This is Linda Langfield with the CNN Washington team. The House of Representatives tonight passed an amendment to the constitution that will forever change the course of human history. Having already passed the Senate several weeks before, the President signed the amendment into law tonight." 

The scene switched to that of a black woman standing behind the presidential seal and microphone. "With this measure, our nation shows it's commitment to moving forward in more than just industry and science, but in moral and ethic values. What we pass tonight will forever enhance the quality of this nation." she said. 

Linda reappeared. "This the One Hundred and First amendment, which has been dubbed the 'Gargoyles' amendment, that creatures of intelligence has the right to be citizens of the United States provided they speak English. It also gives them the right to fair trial, right to own property, and the right to equal protection under the law. As of earlier this evening on the capitol lawn, a select list of gargoyles are being sworn as citizens of this nation by the Madame President. This bill is not, however, without controversy, as special interest groups which claim kinship to terrorist organizations like the Quarreymen and Phoenix Rising..." 

With that, the image on the screen vanished into blackness. The figure in the armchair stirred, considering this news very carefully. His wings sagged with age as he touched his beard. "So Terra, you finally succeeded. You did it, just like you promised you would." 

  
  


  
  


  
  


This time Christyne strolled right in the front door of the county building, making the left towards the police office. She got a lot of stares - some startled, some frightened, but none had done anything big. When she got into the squad room, some people began to clap, and a few others joined in. She smiled, blushing. Not everyone was clapping, though. 

She sat down at her desk, filed through her phone messages, and began to read her email on the police system. She stopped at one message. 

  
  


** You better watch out behind you, freak. One of these days we're gonna kill you!**

** Q**

She sighed. "Hey Captain? CJ? Got a minute?" 

The two men had been laughing about the latest Jazz game, wondering if they would beat the bulls again this season, when Christyne had called them. She gestured to the LAN message on her terminal. 

CJ sighed, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Welcome to the club, Chrissy - welcome to the club." 

The chief, an Irish man with bright eyes a red goatee (she always thought he looked like a leprechaun), pulled on his chin thoughtfully. "What's with the Q?" 

"Quarreymen." Both Christyne and CJ answered simultaneously. 

The Chief turned to Christyne and smiled. "The Quarreymen are disbanded, so using their name fraudulent." He smiled and shook her hand. "Let us know if you hear or see anything else like that." 

"Yessir." 

He nodded, and turned to go, but paused. "By the way, Detective. Congratulations." He winked. 

Christyne looked at the hatemail for a moment longer, and then did something she never would have ever done. She hit "REPLY". 

  
  


** Not if I can help it.**

**C**

She smiled a little to herself. Not anymore - she wouldn't let them scare anyone anymore. That would goad whoever it is, if nothing else, into sending more messages. She wanted that. Reaching into her hip pocket, she drew out her cellular phone, and drew up a special number and dialed. 

"Hi! This is Christyne, can I talk to Lex? Sure. Be good to my sister now. Thanks!" She smiled a little to herself at the news that Alex was taking Ket out on a date. "Yeah, Hi Lex, can I get your help with something? I need someone as good at computers as I am to help me with this. Can you log onto my LAN as an administrator? Great. I want to track somebody down." 

  
  


  
  


An officer in the same office, several hours later, returning from patrol in a downtown district, drinking a lot of coffee, and downing a lot of doughnuts, found a small scrap of cloth on his desk, along with a packet of paper and an envelope. The scrap of paper was a stylized Q with a hammer as part of the Q, taken from inside his desk. The packet of paper was a copy of a section of the rookie's manual entitled "Protect and Serve", and in the envelope was a scrap of paper with drawing of a little man poking his nose over a wall, and the words "**KILROY WAS HERE**." 

   [1]: #N_1_



	12. Interlude: Dark Children (Short)

Dark Children

A short story for the Phantom of the Night saga

By Dasha Ariel Clancey

There were shapes all around Tigris. As awareness slowly crept back into her brain, she began to take in the shapes, and make out what they were. There was heavy construction equipment all around her. She could not see her sword, but was not concerned - she knew she could get it back. She had been tied between heavy presses and welding equipment all anchored into the ground. She would have some trouble moving them. She was bound with the large super-strong chains Christine had devised. She tested the strength of the mounts, and realized that she would have trouble moving them. She was in a workshed of some kind. Probably near the Seattle coast, she deduced, by the definite briny scent to the air.

At least she was in one piece. With all the presence of evil magic in the area, she wouldn't be surprised at what might have caused this, but she knew one thing was for certain. If there was in fact evil magic behind the earthquakes, Tigris had come far too close to discovering the source of that magic. She had been chained spread-eagle. There was something about that which teased at her memory. Tigris had never prized herself at her mental prowess, but she had a distinct feeling she already knew the person behind this.

"WHO ARE YOU?" Tigris called out to the inside of the empty shop. "WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME HERE?"

"Tell me, how did you get the name Tigris Euphrates?" asked a male voice from the shadows, almost quizzically.

Tigris blinked. "Who wants to know?"

A tall, handsome, male gargoyle with bronzish orange skin and blonde hair sauntered towards her through the darkness. With Tigris's night eyes, she could see his face. "Jordan."

"Ah, it touches my heart to know you remember our love." He touched her chin with his right pointer-talon, caressing her minty green skin lovingly.

Tigris's eyes flared angrily, moving her face away. "I do NOT love you!"

"Of course you do, you know you do. Together, you and I are going to raise our son and our daughter. Peacefully." he smiled, soothingly, trying to sing his spell into her heart. "Stop keeping them from me, Tigris. Stop hurting our child, and raise him with his father."

"What's the game now? Going to teach Lily and Joshua to hurt people?"

"You have such a silly code of honor, Tigris Euphrates." he gently mocked her. "Lily and Joshua are my children as well, and even by your own morals, you must allow them to visit me, or else you hurt them."

"And what are you going to tell them I am?" Tigris spat back angrily, in defense of her children. "Some kind of reproductive slave to be used at your will? How that make Lily feel when she is grown?"

Jordan laughed, turning a little, thinking. "Tell me something, oh righteous mother that you are, what will you tell your children when they ask who their father is?"

"Depends on their age and if they are ready for the truth or not. Depends on if the other siblings have told them or not. I'll probably tell them that, no matter, who donated their genetic material, Erik and I will always love them. They will learn to live with the black magic and hatred to seem to hang onto."

Jordan turned slowly back to Tigris with a gentle smile on his lips, reached forward and kissed her. Tigris's magical defense hit full strength, because she knew this was where she always lost control. If she could not maintain self control during the next few minutes, she would again be under his power, and Jordan would take from her whatever it was he wanted until Erik and the others could manage to free her. It was a long, drawn out, deep kiss, meant to stir Tigris's feelings, which it did very well. Tigris felt a burning deep inside her, which she desperately tried to pacify with thoughts of her mate, Erik. Please hurry Erik... she pleaded in her mind.

"They won't be coming for you this time. I have... fed upon... the competition... as you slept."

Tigris's eyes went wide. HE COULDN'T HAVE! Could he? Erik was no match for his black magic... "NO!" Jordan's paws slipped around Tigris's waist, and she could feel an energy coursing up from his paws, through her body. It tingled in her skin like a tickle. She watched her breasts stiffen, her hips soften, the years and the rigors of childbearing melting from her body, until the youthful young warrior and sorceress that Jordan had first met decades ago, once again stood before him. Tigris looked down at what he had done. "No... it's impossible..."

She felt the tears on her cheek. "If you destroyed Erik, then you have destroyed Lily and Joshua, do you realize that?"

"They'll... get over it." Joshua said without remorse.

An anger began to build within Tigris. She strained against the super-strong chains with all her strength. It couldn't be! There had to be SOMETHING she could do! She HAD to find ERIK!!! She pulled against the chains with all her might, her eyes blazing. Jordan began to caress her shoulders and her thighs, kissing the sides of her neck. Tigris gasped, enchanted, groaning at the feelings of passion she normally experienced with Erik filling her body once more with newfound youthful exuberance. Tigris pulled her last ace.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

Jordan paused. "Never."

"Then why chain me up?" She smiled.

"I'm not afraid to chase you down if I have to."

"Then why not? Make it more... exciting?" Tigris teased. "You can't keep me like this forever. You know I'll get them off sooner or later."

Jordan knew Tigris was trying to get him to take the chains off her, but between his desire for passion and his ego, the normally extremely intelligent boy's thinking was overridden. Jordan could never pass up a good game. He smiled, and waved a paw. The chains were gone.

Tigris, finding herself free, did not run. She knew Jordan wound be expecting that, and that she had to face him to stand a chance of making any kind of a timely escape. Tigris held one paw on in front of her with two fingers extended parallel between them, her other paw at her side. "Come, face me. Remember my kiss?"

Jordan certainly would. It had nearly cost him his life on at least one occasion. Jordan's black magic was deadly and powerful enough to beat Tigris hands down, but Tigris had her sword and those front teeth - Viper fangs that showed when she was angry or afraid for her life. The venom in those specialized upper fangs was deadly on contract - only by a narrow escape was Jordan able to survive the last time he was bit. Jordan would not soon forget that - but the contest was just too much to pass up. Tigris knew how much Jordan wanted her, so she was her bait. Jordan, confident in his own abilities, thought he could take her out. "Ready to play it rough?" Jordan smiled.

"Always." Tigris replied. "HEI!!!" she suddenly shouted, spinning on her toes in a wicked kick. Jordan dodged the kick. Tigris followed with two quick left strikes, and immediately ducked Jordan's first attempt to strike. Jordan twisted, attempting to bat the woman aside, but she already knew the way Jordan fought, twisted, and delivered a right-fisted blow. "KAI!" she exclaimed in a japanese fighting fashion, and backed up a step to anticipate Jordan's next move. This came in the form of a folly of similar right and left strikes from his fists, and a kicked that caught Tigris in her mid-section. Tigris was only caught off guard for a second, and took advantage of Jordan's momentary hesitation to make a sweeping gesture with one hand at Jordan's face like a spinning knife. Jordan ducked easily, leaning forward with a series of sideways strikes with the sides of his paws, but Tigris was taking a strike at his legs. Jordan felt it connect, this time causing him to go down as his leg blossomed in fresh pain - she had broken his leg. He snarled up at her.

He shook his head at her. "So beautiful..."

"...but so deadly." Tigris retorted, with another kick to his head, knocking him to one side. Jordan was back up, standing the best he could despite the pain, ready to take another shot at Tigris. The mother, however, had already begun to cast a spell during Jordan's distraction, and had raised a shield around herself. Punch as Jordan might, he could not touch her. Tigris turned and began to hurry out of the shed, Jordan hot on her heels. Tigris climbed the outer wall to the roof, her claws pounding into the cement masonry like jackhammers. As she hurried to the roof's edge to launch herself into flight, her wings spread to their full twin span, Jordan launched his next spell, holding her on the roof with a thick wall of machinating blackness that moved like smoke; Tigris could not get past the edge. She spun around, facing her attacker, prepared to meet him with magic.

"TO ME!!!" she exclaimed, paw held high in the air. All at once, her sword appeared in her paw, and her scabbard at her side. Try and Jordan might, he seemed unable to cast a spell enough to keep the sword away from Tigris. The metal implement seemed to have a magical intelligence of it's own. Tigris gave her screeching feline battle yell, racing forward, her blade raised high to strike. "Want me to break more than just your knee?"

"I'll break both your knees and make you kneel before me and worship me as your Master." Jordan sneered angrily.

"I already have one Master." Tigris laughed, fingering the pentacle necklace she wore. Her sword began to glow with a white fire, and she swung for the male gargoyle. Jordan side stepped her wicked slice, calling his own blade, and the two met with a clash of energy. The touch sparked and crackled with opposing energies - light and dark magic fighting each other directly. Tigris twisted, rolling under Jordan's feet, knocking him over. He hadn't expected the move, and tumbled to the top of the roof.

Jordan recovered quickly, standing, and charging Tigris with his blade. Tigris was still in the process of standing, but was not unprepared for the sudden onslaught, and met his attack with her own blade, being forced onto her back, on the rooftop. "NOW I have you where I want you!!!"

Tigris's tail wrapped around Jordan's legs, and pulled him down to the rooftop once more. Tigris swung once more, and dashed his sword in half. Tigris smiled, taking several cautionary steps backwards, scanning her surroundings tentatively, but watching Jordan.

Her opponent stood again, wrapped his wings, and produced with a twirling of dark energies, some kind of dark plated metallic device with a definite business end pointed in her direction. Tigris had the good sense to jump to one side as he let go a series of shots, impacting his black wall and the rooftop. "HAH! What is it they always say about not bringing a knife to a gun fight?"

"Oh, but it's a very clever knife." Tigris smiled, standing her ground. Jordan released another volley at her. Tigris remained in place this time, deflecting the shot with her blade, which reflected onto the rooftop, the blackness beyond the rooftop, one even coming close enough to Jordan to cause him to jump aside to prevent being hit by his own stray shot.

Jordan's confidence was beginning to waver. "You will be my mate, Tigris! Forever! I have chosen you! You must submit to me - that is the gargoyle way!"

"The gargoyle way also dictates I have the right to choose whom I shall love!" Tigris pointed out. "Besides, as a murderer and a rebel, you have long since abandoned the gargoyle way!"

"You still haven't answered my question, lover." Jordan returned to trying to woo her. "What will you tell our children?"

"I will tell Lily and Joshua the truth, when it is right and prudent to tell them. "I will also tell them the rest of the truth - that you raped me each time and obtained a hatchling from your forcing yourself on me."

"Then why not tell them now?"

"They are not yet old enough to understand the full meaning of what it means when their father raped their mother. They need to understand this does not make them less than their sisters through Erik - Erik has even claimed Joshua his heir."

Jordan howled in rage, his eyes blazing with white light, racing forward at her with his gun, letting go a folly of shots. She moved her blade deftly to deflect the shots, and the second Jordan was in range, she swung once, slicing the metal weapon right down the middle. Jordan's paws were still intact, but bleeding, and he howled in pain, grabbing his paws. In a burst of fury and repressed anger, the enraged female swung her sword, and disconnected the gargoyle's screaming head from his body. His body collapsed to the ground, and vanished in a flash of light. In it's place was a human, laying on the ground, bleeding in his hands and from a line around his neck, and looked at Tigris with blazing eyes. "FOOL! I will have you!"

Tigris was so shocked and surprised by what had just happened, that she did not have chance to protect herself as the human leapt at her, grabbing the woman by throat. She found herself being strangled by inhumanly strong hands, wailing like some kind of demon possessed of some kind of dark power. Tigris choked and gasped, struggling to breathe. His arm was right in range of her mouth, however...

...and she instinctual bit down, feeling the fluid flow through her incisors. The human's eyes went wide, and he screamed in a ghostly way, a crackling noise filled the air.

Tigris sputtered and gasped, tearing herself free. She held her sword at the ready, tasting her own venom on her incisors, and the taste of the human's blood. It was a sickly taste, and she spat it out. Fortunately, Tigris had always been immune to her own venom since she had gained her venomous fangs in the beginning. The poison was deadly to anyone but herself, as far as she knew. Straightening, sword at the ready, she turned back to look at her attacker - to find only the prone stone gargoyle that had been Jordan.

The prophesy was still true. Every time Jordan died and came back to haunt Tigris, it was always Tigris's venom which spelled Jordan's final demise, every time. Tigris somehow laughed at the fact that Jordan made himself immortal in that he kept somehow always coming back from the dead. If he wanted to immortal, that was his problem - perhaps he would eventually learn to be a decent person. Tigris was quite satisfied as she was.

Tigris took stock of herself. She was still beaten and bruised with claw marks and blood stains all over her skin. She felt the breeze stir her blonde curls, and took a deep breath of the cold sea air. She sheathed her sword, smelling the storm approaching. There was a heavy wind coming in, perfect for gliding, and Tigris took advantage of it now that the spells were broken.

Why had Jordan appeared as a human? Tigris could honestly riddle out no reason why the dark sorcerer gargoyle would appear that way, but it seemed she might not learn that for many years - if ever. That was another mystery about Jordan, to be filed away with other question like 'Why is he enamored with me?', 'Why does he insist on stalking me?', 'Where is this gargoyle from?' and 'Why did he abandon the gargoyle ways?' Tigris somehow suspected the answers were all related.

However, Tigris had to go home and check on her beloved husband and hatchlings. She also needed to have a talk with Lily and Joshua about their father.

The End


End file.
